Path of Honor-Part II: Far From Home
by IdrilsSecret
Summary: To avoid scandal that is still following Rumil in Lothlorien, he is sent on a mission to Mirkwood. He must negotiate with the elven king, and convince him that the Wood elves are needed in this time of crisis. It's an impossible task, until he finds an ally in Legolas ... and something more.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

I was far from home, lost in this strange land of twisted boughs and tangled vines. Light did not penetrate this canopy, and it hadn't in many long years. The evidence was in the soil, rot and decay all around me. Everything that grew here was warped by the evil that saturated the earth and the air. It smelled like mold and mildew, like the putrid stink that escaped disturbed swamp waters. But there was something else mixed in the miasma that polluted the air … dead things, flesh decomposing into some kind of unsavory, viscous stew. There was only one thing around here that could cause the forest to exhale such an effluvial mixture … spiders.

I was long overdue to meet the Wood elves who were to be my guide through Mirkwood. I started to think that they had abandoned me altogether. But I ran into a bit of trouble with my horse, and he threw me and ran away not long after we started our journey along the Old Forest Road. He wasn't my horse, thank the Valar. I'd left my grey at an inn and traded him for a common brown who, I was told, was immune to the odd things that we might encounter along our way. I was duped, of course. The first inkling the horse got that we were entering into dangerous territory, and he panicked and fled, leaving me to continue on foot. I would call him a dumb beast, except that I felt like I was the dumb one for coming here.

"_Go to Mirkwood_, he said. _I trust you over anyone else to accomplish this task_, he said. Well, balls to that, I say," I complained after stepping on the thousandth gnarled root that line the path.

"And a mighty big pair you must have to come all this way on foot," someone said from above.

I looked up and found two elves sitting on a branch that grew over the road. They were female, but they dressed like the men, in simple moss green tunics and leggings. They both had long straight hair the color of honey, braided at their temples and tied in the back. From what I could see, they had no armor and no weapons, and they wore soft soled boots that would let the foot feel every grain of sand. I guess I had no reason to complain about my own feet that were well protected by their thick bottoms.

I bowed as was proper, though it was difficult with the two of them above me, not in front of me. "Ladies," I greeted. "I am Captain Rúmil of–"

"Lothlórien. Yes, we know," one of them finished for me. "We've been expecting you. Should have passed this way two days ago, Captain. We were beginning to think something happened to you."

"I … seemed to have lost my horse," I said embarrassed to admit it. "He became spooked on the road further back and–"

"Did you get him from Balkí?" asked the other elleth. "In the village of Arstad?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," I said, recognizing the name of the man.

"No wonder you're late then," said the first elleth.

"Should I be worried that I left grey in Mr. Balkí's care?" I wondered.

The pair of ellith swooped down and landed next to me as graceful as felines. That's when I noticed they were twins. "He'll take great care of your horse, Captain," said one.

"Unless he finds a high bidder," said her sister.

"What?" I cried.

"Don't listen to my sister. She's a trickster," said … well, I'd lost track of which one was which.

"You know my name, my ladies. Might I have the pleasure to know yours?" As I spoke, I noticed that one wore her braids in a double row, while the other wore hers singularly. At least now I could tell them apart.

"I am Corweth," said the elleth who spoke to me first, the one with double braids. She seemed brash compared to her sister.

"And I'm Messel," said the second.

"It is very nice to meet the both of you, but if you'll just show me to an officer or a high commander . . ." I was interrupted by their annoying stares as they giggled. "What?"

"We have no commander," said Corweth.

"We just happened to be there when your letter came, and then we volunteered to be your escorts," said Messel.

"They would let their women risk their lives in this forsaken place?" I wonder aloud, and instantly wished I'd not spoken. Both women closed in on me, eyes narrowed in suspicion. I was a stranger in this unfamiliar and strange land. I should have known better.

I'd forgotten what Haldir and Orophin told me about Wood elves. They were unpredictable, just as these two were now. Corweth circled me, watching every move, every flutter of my eyelids, sizing me up. Then she stopped when she came around, putting her face up to mine. "It's a good thing you're pretty, Captain. Otherwise I might have reason to slash you for insulting my kingdom. Mirkwood might seem forsaken to you, but it is my home, and the only home I've ever known. I'd give my life to protect it."

"Sister, you cannot threaten a guest of the King," said Messel as she interrupted the very tense moment happening. Then she stepped up to me. "You must excuse my sister. She is very passionate when it comes to our home. I'm sure you meant nothing by it," she said.

"No, of course not. You must excuse me Lady Corweth. In Lothlórien, our women are not allowed to participate in army life."

"Pfft," she said, making a cynical noise. "Amazing that you have not fallen prey to the enemy then." Corweth backed away and started along the road. "Let's go, Captain. It will be dark soon, and we don't want to be in this part of the forest when the sun sets."

I looked to the canopy above. "How can you tell?" I murmured to myself. Ever since entering the Old Forest Road, it had been dark, and I could not decipher between night and day. At least I had found my escorts, even if we got off to a bad start. I made a mental note not to cross Corweth again. She seemed to have a short temper. I was beginning to see why Wood elves had no discretion against women in their army.

We walked along the road for a while and I began to wonder. "Where might your horses be, if you don't mind my inquiry?"

Corweth gave me a confused glare, and then turned to Messel. "He's serious, isn't he?"

Messel shrugged her shoulders, and Corweth turned back to answer me. "Wood elves have no horses. Only the King, his son the Prince, and a few of his court have them."

"Then how do you navigate the forest at a quick pace?" I asked.

Corweth rolled her eyes, and walked to a nearby tree. She grabbed a large vine hanging nearly to the ground and took it in her hand. "We go up, Captain." She scampered up the vine until she was high up in the tree, where she waited for us to follow her.

Messel smiled and grabbed the vine, but she paused to look back at me. "Don't you navigate the trees in Lothlórien?"

"Well … uh … we do … but … uh–"

"And you call yourself an elf," Corweth called down. "Show him how it's done, sister."

Messel looked at me with shy eyes, blinking through her long lashes. "Trust the trees, Captain. Respect them, and they will never fail you. There is always a vine or a branch where you need one."

"So you swing through the trees?" I asked with awe.

"Swing, climb, run, we travel high in the canopy," Corweth said, hearing our conversation. "The spiders tend not to come up to the top. They fear the sun and the moon. We'll be safer up there than down here."

I started my climb up the vine, remembering how I used to do this all the time when I was an elfling. Corweth and Messel made it look easy, as they gracefully climbed higher. I was careful as I started out, but soon I found my footing, and picked up my pace. The sisters would go ahead, and then stop to wait for me to catch up. Corweth seemed to be getting annoyed again.

"You'd travel much faster without your cloak," she said.

I shook my head with defiance. "I'll not leave it. This was a gift from someone long ago. It has sentimental value that cannot be replaced."

Corweth spiraled down her vine, coming back to me. When she reached me, she looked at my cape and then to me. "Give it here, Captain," she demanded.

"I said I would not leave it behind, and I mean not to," I demanded.

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Just give me the cape, Captain. I'll not do anything to harm it, if it means that much to you."

Reluctantly, I gave her my cape, unpinning it at the neck first. Messel watched her sister's impatience, then my brooch caught her eye. "I thought Lórien elves wore a green leaf brooch veined in silver," she observed.

"Usually we do, my lady, but I gave mine to a special friend for safe keeping," I said. Actually, Túron, my ex-lover had taken mine to remember me by when he left Lothlórien. Now, I wore a silver elven knot, designed in an intricate motif of intertwining loops that had no beginning and no end.

Corweth heard my answer and looked me over from head to toe. "Special friend?" she inquired. Then a fiendish smile touched the corners of her mouth. She came back to where I stood anchored on a large branch, and took the cloak from Messel. Then she gave me a particular glare. "Have you met the Prince before, Captain?"

"No, I have not, but I look forward to it, my lady," I answered as cordially as possible to be sure I was on her good side.

She gave me a hard look before she smiled. Then she reached around and patted my bum, a most unexpected move. I must have looked as shocked as I felt, for she laughed at my expense, her sister joining in the fun. "And I'm sure the Prince will look forward to meeting you too, Captain." Corweth folded my cape rather hastily and shoved it into a pack that she carried on her back. "For safe keeping," she teased, and with that we were on our way again.

When we reached the higher parts of the canopy, we started forward. Corweth and Messel were very agile as they leapt from bough to bough, barely rustling the leaves. They hopped along as though they were on the ground and there was no fear of falling. I was much slower, checking my surroundings before each jump. I knew I slowed the women down considerably, and I feared that Corweth might tire of me and leave me. I found myself putting my faith in Messel. She seemed to be the more level-headed sister who would not leave a guest of the King behind.

"You're doing much better than I thought you would," commented Messel. She tended to stay with me and let her sister go on up ahead.

"It's been a very long time since I've done anything like this," I said, jumping from one branch to the next. I never took my eyes off my path.

"Don't you travel through the trees in Lothlórien?" she asked with surprise.

Corweth answered for her. "The elves of Lórien have forgotten what it is like to navigate the trees."

"I beg your pardon, Lady Corweth, but we live in the trees," I corrected.

"You live in them, yes, but your feet never touch the bark." Corweth turned to Messel to give further explanation. "They live in houses built amongst the trees, and they tread upon walkways that join them." Corweth turned by to me with narrowed eyes. "If you kept your faith in the trees, they would not fail you."

"You've said that before," I murmured. Then I directed my answer to Messel. "We honor the mallorns with great care. To climb around in the ancient forest would be disrespectful."

"And how would you know, Captain? There are very few Sindarin elves that speak their language anymore," Corweth argued.

"I know. I am one of them," I said quietly.

Corweth looked back at me, eyes narrowed to slits, but she said nothing, and we continued on our way.

* * *

><p>Although the forest was dark because of the dense canopy, I could tell that night had finally fallen upon us. Every now and again, I got a glimpse of the moon or a bright cluster of stars. I became surer of my footing and was able to keep up with Corweth and Messel as we traveled through the high boughs of the trees. After a while, Corweth stopped and signaled for her sister and me to do the same. Messel looked back at me and lifted one finger to her lips. I nodded in compliance.<p>

Corweth climbed down a few branches, watching the forest below us. She looked up at her sister and smiled fiendishly, giving a nod and a wink. Messel answered with a twinning smile and glanced around her, searching for something.

"What is it?" I whispered.

We were in a part of the forest where a mixture of pine and oak grew. Messel spotted a pinecone hanging from one of the branches and plucked it from its stem. Then she tossed it to Corweth below. "Come, Captain Rúmil," she said to me.

We climbed down until we were at the same level with Corweth, who was carelessly tossing the pinecone from hand to hand. That made me more than a little nervous, for obviously, she had spotted something in the lower part of the forest. She pointed to an area under us, and I squint my eyes and focused on the place. I didn't see anything at first, not until they moved. Two very large, nasty spiders were sitting on a giant web strung between multiple trees. I gasped, never having seen spiders of such grand proportions before. I started to reach for my bow fastened to my back, but Messel reached for my arm and stopped me. Then she gestured to another place below, and I looked down again. Far below on the ground was an orc, alone and seeming to hide amongst some of the underbrush.

"Now, Captain, you'll see why we travel up high in the trees," said Corweth. She pointed to the spider's webbing. "They cannot see very well, but they feel every tremble of movement, especially through their webs. The orc knows this. That's why he's hiding." Corweth examined the pinecone in her hand and glanced to Messel. "Those spiders look hungry, wouldn't you say, sister?"

"Famished," she answered with an impish grin.

Corweth took aim and carefully dropped the pinecone. It bounced off of one of the mooring threads that anchored the web between the trees. The spiders turned towards the direction of the disturbance. Meanwhile, the cone fell to the forest floor, next to the orc, who jumped when he heard it land. He came out of his hiding place, and the spiders spotted him. Slowly, they moved closer and closer until they were right above the orc, who was too busy checking his surroundings. He didn't think to look up until it was too late. The spiders attacked swiftly and silently, the only sound being a grunt that came from the unsuspecting orc. In a matter of seconds, the orc was completely wrapped in the spider's sticky web, like a caterpillar in a cocoon. His body was carried up to the giant web, where he was placed off to the side, a meal for later.

"They won't kill him right away," Corweth informed me. "They'll paralyze him so that he can't escape, but he'll be alive and fresh when they are ready to feed. Nasty business, the feeding of spiders, and a horrible way to die … eaten alive, the juice sucked right out of you."

I gave a disgusted look. "I'm glad we're above them," I commented.

"Aye, we are safer up here, but not out of danger. Come, let's get going while the spiders are busy settling their meal," Corweth said as she climbed up towards the canopy. Messel and I followed close behind, and we kept moving for a while.

We must have traveled most of the night, only stopping briefly every once in a while to drink from our water skins. I was lucky to still have mine. I'd left it strapped over my shoulder when I was riding, forgetting to attach it to my saddle. It was one of the few things I had with me when the horse threw me and ran away. Of course, I had my bow, which I always fastened to my back. And in my pocket, there was a bit of lembas, elvish waybread. I didn't have much; I'd tucked a piece away instead of taking the time wrap it in its leaf covering and put it back in my saddle bag. Thank the Valar for my hastiness, or I wouldn't have any food at all.

Corweth and Messel took a pouch from their journey pack and opened it to reveal strips of something dark and petrified. It looked like flat sticks of some sort. Each woman ripped a bite off with their teeth, and then chewed it for a very long while. Then, Messel offered me one.

"What is it?" I asked, taking the offered stick and examining it closely.

"Dried venison. Good source of protein to keep your strength up," Messel answered.

I sniffed it, tried to break a piece off, and when I failed, I handed it back to her. "I believe the leather of my boot is softer, and would be easier to consume."

Messel looked at the meat, shrugged her shoulders and took another bite. Corweth rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You have to eat something, Captain."

"I've lembas in my pocket that will suffice," I said, reaching into my tunic and bringing out the bread. I was surprised to find spots of black mold growing on it. The humid air of the forest had gotten to it. I hadn't considered that. Lembas was kept wrapped in a leaf to lengthen its freshness. Obviously, the thick, wet air of the Rhovanion made my waybread spoil quickly. Feeling deflated with my findings, I stuffed the lembas back into my pocket.

Corweth guffawed and took her boot off, waving it at me. "Eat up, Captain."

Messel shared in a laugh, and then offered me another piece of the venison. I took it and fought to bite a piece off. I had to admit, once my saliva started softening it, the flavor was not half bad.

Through with our abstemious meal, we were off again. After a while, I noticed that the trees were thinning at their tops, and the branches were becoming smaller and less suitable for traveling along. We descended about half way to the forest floor, but kept to the trees for now.

"We're getting close to the outermost borders of Mirkwood," Messel informed me. "Soon, we'll be able to walk on the ground again."

I was delighted to hear it. My muscles were aching from all the climbing, swinging and jumping. "It seems like we got here quickly."

"There are shorter ways to reach our lands when we travel the trees," Corweth said. "Once we reach the river, we'll be within the borders. We'll be safe there, but I'd advise you to keep your bow on your back. Mirkwood elves are very suspicious and unforgiving if they think they are being threatened."

"Does that hold true even when I'm being escorted?" I asked. I was beginning to feel more like a prisoner than a guest.

"Any and all threats are vanquished quickly," she warned only once. I said nothing more on the matter and kept my bow to my back.

Half the day later, I heard the distant rush of water, and knew we were getting close to the river. I could not wait to touch my feet to solid ground again. After roaming trees for two days, I began to think that my original complaining about roots in the road was frivolous.

"We're here," Corweth announced, and she hurried down a large beech. They were all over the place, I noticed. Huge majestic looking beech trees, seemingly untouched by the poisons of the rest of the forest.

"Once we cross the river, how much further until we reach the King's home?" I asked.

"Not far," said Messel. "Only a couple hours."

That was surprising. It took nearly a day to reach some of Lothlórien's closest borders. I thought King Thranduil would have more territory than this, and I realized that it was the evil and the darkness that closed in on him and his people, eating away at his lands.

Finally, I touched ground and gave a sigh of relief. It felt rather strange to walk a straight line without the surface bowing. It still felt like I was walking on branches. I wondered if this was similar to what Cirdan's shipwrights called sea legs, the ghostly feeling that the ocean was still below their feet. Corweth and Messel seemed to adjust quickly, and so I did the same, ignoring the odd sensation.

"Our numbers have diminished over the years," Corweth said as we walked towards the sound of moving water. "Mirkwood's borders used to go out past the river, but with fewer elves to protect the kingdom, our borders have shrunk. The spiders keep pushing closer, but we push back even harder. Now we use the rivers as part of our defenses. Spiders and orcs won't pass them, and even if they tried, they would fall to our arrows."

"Mirkwood elves are avid archers, Captain," Messel added, pride tinging her words.

"Yes, I know. I've heard of your great skill with a bow. I've always been intrigued. I myself prefer the bow over the sword. My regiment is made up of archers. We are among the first to enter into battle, abating the enemy's front lines before the swordsmen troops advance," I boasted.

Corweth stopped and gave me a sharp look. Her eyes regarded me skeptically. "I would not have marked you for an accomplished archer."

"And the bow on my back?" I asked. I was becoming tired of her ridiculing.

"Just because someone carries a bow does not mean they know how to use it," she answered.

"I should like to test your theory, my lady," I challenged.

"Are you summoning me to engage in a contest, Captain Rúmil?" Corweth seemed delighted by the idea.

"Perhaps when I am done with my official business."

"I accept," she agreed.

"Come on," Messel interrupted. "We should be on our way."

We finally made it to the river, and I was disappointed with my findings. "How are we supposed to cross here?" The river was flowing fast, too fast to cross by foot, if it was shallow enough, or by swimming.

"We'll go by boat," Corweth said, her voiced raised above the loud turning water.

I looked around, but saw no boat. Even if there was one, the current was far too swift to paddle across to the other side. "I don't understand," I complained. "I don't see how we are going to–"

"I wouldn't stand there if I were you, Captain," Messel called out. She look up and I turned around, following her line of vision. Behind me stood what was left of an oak, long dead with only about ten feet of the trunk left standing. The first thing I noticed were all the holes and broken arrows protruding from it. I swung around to ask Messel what this was, when Corweth made the unmistakable sound of a whippoorwill.

"Captain, if you'd so kindly step to the–" Messel called again, just as something whizzed by my left ear. It was so close, I felt the hairs at my temple move. Too late, I fell to one knee, turned and looked up. There was a new arrow embedded in the dead tree trunk with a thin rope attached to it. My eyes followed the rope to the other side of the rapids, and there I saw a pair of elvish guards tying their end of the rope to another tree.

"What … in the name of Eru … was that?" I complained, having come close to death. "I was almost shot!"

"Next time listen to my sister," Corweth said coolly, as she loosed the rope from the arrow and began tying it around the tree. If I didn't know better, I would have thought she wanted me to get stuck with an arrow through my head.

I got up and dusted the dirt from my leggings, trying to control my ire. Meanwhile, Messel was rummaging around in the nearby bushes. At least I thought that's what she was doing. What I thought was a bush was actually a blanket of some sort. It looked like magic from where I was standing, as the elleth whipped the blanket away, revealing a rowboat.

"What was that?" I asked curiously.

"That is a camouflaging quilt. It's made of a very rare thread. There's only four like it in all of Middle-earth. It's similar to a looking glass, picking up the reflection of its surroundings," Messel said. She bunched up the material and stuffed it into the front of the boat.

I went to the boat and helped the women drag it to the edge of the river. Now I could see what their plan was. We would stand in the boat, and use the rope to pull ourselves across the raging river. "Why do you cross here and not where the water is more calm?" I wondered.

"The river flows like this for miles both ways. This is the shortest distance between shores. The quick paced water ensures Mirkwood's safety. Nothing can cross it. The quilt hides the boat from anyone who might try, and sentries are stationed here to make sure no one does."

"Why not just place guards along here?" I asked, as we climbed into the boat and started our way across the river. It was not an easy way to go, but with the three of us pulling our way, we went fairly fast.

"We don't have enough people to spare. Besides, the river is more than efficient for protecting this part of the kingdom," Messel answered. She gave me a stern glare. "Whatever you do, Captain, don't let the water–"

"Orcs!" yelled the sentries on the other side of the river.

I turned back to the bank we pushed off from, just in time to see three orcs run out from the cover of the trees. Instantly, I reached for my bow, but Corweth stopped me. "Keep us anchored to the crossing rope. Messel and I will take care of the orcs."

At that exact moment, one of the orcs produced an axe and stomped towards the old dead tree. His yellow teeth flashed just before he swung his weapon, cutting the rope. It went limp and our boat started moving with the fast current. I still had it in my hand, and I knew it was the only thing that would keep us from floating downstream. "I've got this, you shoot the orcs," I called to the women.

"Rúmil, no!" Messel panicked. "You can't hold it with your bare hands. The current is too strong. It will–"

But too late I realized my mistake. The current grabbed the boat and it went swiftly along the river. Once we reached the end of the rope, it slid across the palms of my hands, feeling like instant fire. Rope burn, I thought, but I knew I couldn't let go.

Corweth and Messel were firing arrows at the orcs, as well as the sentries. The orcs were firing back, but the elves had the advantage in numbers. While they battled, I ignored the pain in my hands and pulled with all my might, trying to reel the boat to the shore. It was almost too painful, and I was losing my grip. Suddenly, I felt a hard punch to my thigh that knocked me towards the side of the boat, and I stumbled. My right hand slipped and I felt the icy water below, but caught myself before I fell overboard. I looked at my leg, and saw a black arrow protruding from it.

At the same time, I began to feel very dizzy and sleepy. The first thing I thought was that the arrow was poisoned. "Messel!" I yelled to get her attention.

Messel turned to me and saw the arrow. Then she saw the wet sleeve of my tunic, and yelled to her sister. "Damn it! He's touched the water! Rúmil is losing consciousness!"

"Grab the rope!" Corweth yelled back, and Messel acted fast.

I couldn't understand why she didn't mention the arrow in my leg. That seemed much more important than a soaked sleeve. It was only water. And why was I suddenly so tired? My eyes closed involuntarily. I tried to speak, to tell the women that I'd been poisoned. Surely they would know to check the wound for signs. No words escaped my lips. As a matter of fact, I couldn't get my lips to move at all. Sleep overwhelmed me. So … tired … need to … … rest.

ZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzz . . .


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

Such vivid dreams I had. I was at home in my nice warm bed. Túron was sleeping next to me. I felt so relieved that he was back, though I didn't know why. He shouldn't be here, I thought. After everything that happened, he should be far from here. Raenor was still trying to find evidence of our relationship. If we were caught . . .

Túron rolled over, a sated smile upon those sumptuous ruby lips. "Good morning, lover."

"I've missed you so much," I said.

He kissed my cheek and my neck, moving to my chest and further down. I stretched luxuriously and allowed him to reign my body as his mouth surrounded me and . . .

Pain … shooting through my leg … white hot pain that brought me out of my slumber. My eyes were still heavy, and they wouldn't open. Where was I? I couldn't remember anything at first. The confusion was overwhelming. Last thing I remembered was orcs on the riverbank … arrows flying … slipping in a boat and—

"I don't envy elf men," said a familiar voice. "To wake up like that, and no way to alleviate it."

"Oh, there are ways, Lady Corweth, though it is better not to wake up alone." This was a new voice, a male, someone I did not know.

"And when was the last time my lord woke up alone with only his hand for company?" she teased.

"More times than I shall ever admit," he said jovially.

"Wh- where am?" I asked, finding my vocal chords working again, though they felt dry. The room I was in was dark. Only a single candle lit the gray walls. Rock or stone from what I could tell. No windows, unless they were blocked out by curtains and it was nighttime.

"You are in the Healer's Hall, Captain Rúmil." I recognized the voice as that of Corweth. "Nasty wound you got there. No poison, you are very lucky. Evil bastard must not have had any on his arrow."

"No poison? Then what is wrong with me?"

"Again, you did not heed our advice. You touched the water, and it cast its spell on you."

"The water?" I was so confused, and it seemed as if Corweth was enjoying keeping me in this state.

"The river is enchanted," said the male. His voice was like satin, rich and smooth, soft and tranquilizing. "When you touched it, the water put you under a sleeping spell."

"I can't see anything," I said, a bit panicked. Either the spell hadn't completely worn off, or there was permanent damage.

"Corweth, light a few more candles for the Captain," said the ellon.

"Yes, my lord," she answered.

The room brightened beyond my closed eyes. I strained to open them, and they slowly abided. Everything was blurry until I started to concentrate on focusing. Finally, I was able to see my surroundings. I seemed to be in a cave, but I had no idea where. I was in a bed, and there was a table next to me with a basin, a stack of clean folded rags, a jar of some sort, and a pitcher of water.

The ellon sitting at the foot of my bed had long straight hair the color of ripe wheat. His skin glowed with the light of Telperion. I could tell he had very ancient blood that tied him to the early days of elven existence. Upon his head sat a mithril circlet with a single teardrop shaped emerald in the center. He was of royalty, no doubt. "Forgive my ignorance, but are you King Thranduil?"

His eyes, which were of the truest shade of blue I'd ever seen, crinkled with mirth, and he lifted a finger to his lips to hide his laughter. "Ai, that I should be King one day. What do you think, Corweth?"

"A fine King you would make, your Grace," she answered, but there was humor in her words. "But I do not see your father giving up the throne anytime soon."

"How right you are. No, Captain, I'm afraid that title will go with my father when he sails, if he ever sails, and that is a very big if," he said, and I knew who it was I was speaking with.

"Prince Legolas, I'm sorry I did not know you," I apologized. The last thing I wanted to do was to piss off the King's son.

"Corweth, will you give us a moment?" Legolas requested.

"Of course, my lord. I'll let the Master Healer know the Captain is awake," she said and bowed as she left the room.

Legolas studied me a moment before returning to our conversation. There was something very intriguing about the Prince. He was not at all what I expected, especially to hear him trade banter with Corweth. I guess I thought he would be more like his father, for I'd heard plenty of stories about the King, and none of them were about his sense of humor.

"Captain Rúmil," he said slowly, letting my name roll off his tongue as though he was tasting it. "One of the Lórien Three. Your oldest brother is Haldir, March Warden of the Northern Border Guard. Your other brother is a Captain, like yourself. Orophin, I believe?"

"Yes, my lord," I answered.

He put his hand up to stop me. "Please, no 'my lord' while we are alone. You may call me Legolas if it pleases you, but most have trouble calling me by my name only. So I tell them not to call me by any name, and speak as though we are friends. It seems to work. I never liked titles much anyways."

"I will call you by your name if you call me by mine. 'Captain' is not necessary," I said to make things even between us.

"I will do that … Rúmil," he said again, only this time he didn't savor it. "We've been expecting you. Corweth tells me you ran into a bit of trouble early on your journey through the Rhovanion."

"I did, but I am here now. I need to speak to your father, the King. I've something very important to discuss with him."

"About?" Legolas asked.

"About the rising number of orcs," I said. I was given orders to speak with Thranduil, not his son.

"Well, that is nothing new to us. And as you saw for yourself, they are becoming more daring and closing in on our land."

"And do you know of the growing orc army marching out of Dol Guldur?"

He gave a haughty smile. "Where else would they come from? Orcs have been oozing out of the dark tower for many years."

"Perhaps if your father didn't hide beneath his hill, and sent his armies out to push them back, they would not be such a problem as they are now." There was a certain arrogance about him that made my ire build. If Thranduil was an oak tree, then Legolas was the acorn that did not fall far from him.

Legolas didn't speak, but his eyes narrowed as he inspected me. He was trying to figure out where my thoughts were in all of this, but he didn't have to think too hard. Finally, he spoke. "Why didn't Haldir come this time?"

"We are at war in Lothlórien. He is busy commanding his troops," I answered.

"And you are a Captain. Aren't you needed with your regiment?"

"My brother Orophin can command both his and mine. But as you have pointed out, my time is valuable, and all I want is to deliver my message and be on my way."

Legolas' eyes traveled down my body, resting on my thigh where the arrow had bit me. "I don't think you'll be leaving any time soon, not until you are well enough to travel. There will be plenty of time for you to meet with my father." He looked to the table and noticed the empty glass. "Where are my manners? You must be thirsty. Let me pour you some water." Legolas stood from my bed and went to the table, taking up the pitcher and glass. He filled it and handed it to me.

I drank deep and held it in my mouth to moisten my tongue and throat. And all the time, Legolas was watching me, studying my every move.

"Of whom do you dream about?" he asked out of nowhere.

I choked on my water. "Pardon?"

"Before you woke up, you were dreaming of someone. Your wife? Your betrothed?"

"I … I don't know what you're talking about," I stammered. He was making me very uncomfortable, and I think he wanted it that way.

"Come now, Rúmil. An elf does not wake up with a cockstand because he was dreaming of sweet rolls or pipe weed."

I gasped at his use of vulgarity, and at the fact that he had been watching. "I'm sorry, but Prince or no, I don't wish to discuss my personal life with someone I have just met."

He ignored me and went on with his investigation. "My guess is that you haven't seen her in quite some time, but you still think about her. What happened? Did she smite you? Found you with another elleth? I must admit, you are a very handsome ellon. I imagine it is difficult for you to tie yourself to one person for very long."

"You don't know me at all if you think that," I complained. Just who in Mordor did he think he was to ask me such blatant questions, and pry into my personal life? I started to sit up, but the sudden movement sent a shockwave of pain down my leg. I winced and fell back into my pillows.

"Alright, keep your secrets. Don't hurt yourself. I'll stop … for now." Legolas came around to the foot of my bed. "I thought you might be different from your brother, but I see you are just as stuffy as he is. Must be like that with all Lothlórien elves."

"And you have less manners than I would expect from royalty. Must be like that with all Wood elves," I mocked.

Legolas' eyes turned to slits, and for a moment I thought he might call for his guards to come and drag me to the cells. But then the corner of his mouth quirked into a devious smile, as if to say the game was on. "I like you, Rúmil. You've got moxie. At least in that way you are different from Haldir. I look forward to speaking with you again." He went to the door and stepped into the hallway. "The healer will be here shortly. Get your rest. You'll need it."

My jaw unclenched when he left. I'd been biting my tongue, trying not to unleash my anger on him. "Damn Wood elves," I mumbled to myself. "If he wants moxie, I'll show him moxie."

* * *

><p>Bed rest for a day, I was told by the healer. I argued with him to at least allow me to move about my room, but I was denied. So now what was I to do, trapped in a room with no windows, buried beneath the ground in a cave, surrounded by reckless Wood elves who seemed to have no concerns about the world outside? I couldn't even disobey the healer's orders. My clothes were gone, and I was left with nothing but a white patient gown that was much to sheer to be seen in. At least I had my bow, which was leaning against the wall in the corner of my room. Not that it would do me much good, but it was a comfort, something familiar, something from home.<p>

I laid there the first day, sulking, my only visitor the healer that checked my wound and changed my bandages. I didn't even know her name, and she did not speak to me. Perhaps she was ordered not to, or perhaps she was like all the rest, not fond of a Lothlórien elf. I didn't care anymore. I just wanted to speak with the King and be gone from this place. I missed the trees and the clean air of Caras Galadhon. I missed the mallorns and the lanterns that lit my home, like a million stars beneath the boughs. It took me too long to get to Mirkwood, and it was taking me too long to leave. I felt my impatience growing by the hour.

The next day, the healer finally spoke to me. She told me I could walk around my room and along the main corridor of the Healing Hall, but nowhere else. I smiled, glad for anything more than lying in my bed. My first time up, the healer helped me since I was a bit wobbly on my feet. It didn't take me long to figure out how much pressure I could put on my injured leg, and I was fine to walk alone. With other patients to attend to, the healer left and I ventured down the long hall.

There were alcoves on both sides, some with a door and some with just a curtain, patient rooms. The hall itself was like a tunnel, and it literally was, since it was underground. Torches lit the hallway, one by each door. Most doors or curtains were closed, a patient inside being tended by the many healers of Mirkwood. It was not a very nice place to be, and a bit depressing at that. The muffled moans and wails of the injured came through. Soldiers, I guessed, come home by some miracle that they were not spun in webbing and saved for a later meal. I remembered the orc and shuddered.

Why did they live like this? Why didn't they flee to another land where they wouldn't have to endure the darkness? They didn't fight for anything but the protection of the King's precious halls, filled with rich treasures. They wouldn't march out and meet the enemy, to strike out and push back, and reclaim the land that was rightfully theirs. Instead, they stayed hidden away, under the ground, living in darkness and gloom, breathing stale air, cramped together like a herd of cattle.

There was a commotion happening at the far end of the hall. Two elves brought in a third on a litter. I was pushed to the side as the woman who tended my leg rushed past and directed them into the nearest free room. I hobbled down the hall to see what was happening. I was a soldier, and I knew what battle wounds looked like. I knew the frame of mind that an injured soldier was in. Perhaps I could help in some way.

I stood in the open doorway, and watched as the two healthy elves took the injured elf by the arms and held him down. The healer stuck a thick piece of leather in her patient's mouth, and she grabbed a saw. They were going to cut his leg off, but why? Though elves sustained injuries like any other race in the world, we had the advantage of rapid healing. What could be so bad that they would take his leg? And that's when the healer threw the bandages from the injured leg. Like I said, I've seen the worst kinds of wounds before, but this was something altogether new to me. There was no gash from a sword or an axe. There was nothing but blood and white ooze, and the shinbone exposed. I'd never seen what a spider the size of a large dog could do to flesh, and it shocked me. It had melted through skin and muscle, and it was beginning to deteriorate the bone itself.

"Please, no," the injured elf was crying out. "Don't take my leg."

"I have to. The poison has left nothing for me to save. If I don't cut it off, it will keep consuming the rest of your leg and you will die," the healer explained. She looked at the two elves holding their fellow soldier down, and nodded. The elves tightened their grip on him, and secured the leather bit. The healer brought the saw to the injury and moved it up until it was clear of the wound, just above the knee. Then she started cutting as though sawing through a log. The injured elf screamed in agony, a sound I would not soon forget. His eyes bulged from their sockets. Sweat poured down his face, and he screamed until the pain was so terrible that he could not take it anymore, and went unconscious.

"The spiders, they bite," said a smooth voice from behind. I turned and found Prince Legolas standing behind me. "It is the worst thing that could happen to someone, to have been bitten by one of Shelob's children. This is how they kill. They bite and scurry off. Then they wait for the poison to burn away flesh and bone, turning it to a gelatinous goo. The victim is then consumed by the spiders, a quick meal easy to consume. This elf was lucky that he was found right away and brought to the healers."

"His leg was not lucky," I pointed out. The healer was half way through the bone. It was a messy business taking a leg.

"Better to have half a leg than no life, no soul … bound for Mandos," Legolas replied as though he were a thousand miles from here. "It's a different kind of war we are fighting here, Captain. We're not just protecting our borders. It's too late for that. Now we are protecting the last of what we have, our home and lives."

"We fight for the same thing in Lothlórien, only we go out and meet our enemy, not just hold them back," I said, regretting my words. But it was true.

Legolas gave me the same look he gave me before, the one where I couldn't be sure whether he would berate me or not. He just stood there, blue eyes blazing, staring in a way that made me feel vulnerable and open to him. I didn't like it one bit. Finally he looked down at my patient robe. "I see they let you out of bed. You must be on the mend," he observed, ignoring my last comment.

"I am, and soon I would request that meeting with your father," I demanded.

"Would you like to go now?" he asked, surprising me.

I wanted nothing more than to go now, but it took every ounce of energy I had just to walk to the end of the hall without putting too much pressure on my leg. I got the feeling that Legolas knew this and he was toying with me. "I've been ordered to stay within the Healing Hall for the next couple days."

He leaned into my ear and whispered, "And when have you ever followed the rules with such strict observance?" He stood straight again, a cunning smile curling the corners of his mouth. "Very well, Captain. A couple days and you'll have your meeting. In the meantime, I do hope to get to know you better. I can't help but feel we have more in common than one might think."

I watched as Legolas entered the room where the poor elf lay trembling and bleeding on a table. The healer was too busy tending to the amputated leg to calm the elf. Legolas bent down and spoke with that cool, soothing voice. He could calm a herd of rutting stags with just a few words, I thought to myself. At the moment, he was keeping the injured elf from going any further into shock. The elf's eyes lifted and looked directly into those of the Prince, as Legolas spoke of green leaves and warm winds of summer. The elf on the table stopped shaking and relaxed at the sound of the Prince's voice, and I myself couldn't help but envision the summer days of my youth, wishing I could go back there right now. And I found that I rather wished I could take Legolas with me, and show him what it was like to enjoy a Lothlórien summer. As he spoke to the elf, he turned his head to the side, and his brilliant eyes caught mine, as though he had heard my thoughts and agreed to my invitation. I shook myself from this odd trance and left, going back to my room where I could rest, but I couldn't get the sight of those blue eyes out of my thoughts.

* * *

><p>Two more days gone. Two more days that I was still in Mirkwood and not returning to my home. It had taken me three weeks to get here in the first place. It would take me at least that to get back. Now, I was tacking on the days that I sat in this place, waiting for an audience with the Elven King. I wondered what might be happening in Lórien. Had they marched back to the borders yet? And if they had, how were my men adjusting to Orophin as their new Captain? I knew he would take great care of my archer regiment, but that did not mean they would be clear of any dangers.<p>

There was a knock at my door, and Corweth entered, her judgmental eyes leering at me. I smiled quite arrogantly and welcomed her in. "My, don't you look radiant today," I said smugly.

She ignored me as usual. "The Prince has sent for you. I'm to take you to him."

I practically jumped from the bed, and realized I was still in my patient robes. "Might I get dressed before–"

She set my folded, cleaned, and newly repaired clothes at the foot of the bed. "I'll be outside your door," she informed me, and left.

I hurried to get dressed, grabbed my bow and stepped out. Corweth was there, leaning against the wall, looking quite irritated. "Am I finally going to have my meeting with your King?" I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders and blinked slowly. "I wasn't sent here by the King. Prince Legolas told me to retrieve you, and that is my order."

"Well, will he be escorting me to the King's Hall then?"

"You'll have to ask the Prince," she responded dryly. I was getting nothing from Corweth.

"You don't like me very much, do you?" I said after we started walking.

"You're pompous. You think you are above others, especially Wood elves. And you treat me as if I am your servant."

I looked over my shoulder to her. "Don't hold anything back."

"Speak like that to the King and you'll be left on your own to get out of the Rhovanion," she warned.

"And unless your King gives serious consideration to what I have to say, no one will get out of this cursed forest alive," I countered with my own warning.

Corweth gave me a steely glare, but I could see she was considering my words. It was not the first time she'd thought about her home and her safety, and her twin sister's at that.

We left the Healer's Hall, and entered into what looked like the central point of the entire underground system. It was enormously spacious, with multiple levels, stairs, stone bridges, doorways and hallways leading off into all directions. I was reminded of ants all of a sudden. Elves rushed here and there, disappearing into one darkened doorway, and emerging from another further down. It was actually quite beautiful to look at. An entire city was carved beneath the earth, hidden away where no one could see what went on under the hill in the north of the Rhovanion. Still, as magnificent as it seemed, I couldn't help but feel trapped here. Should the main gates be breached, where would they all go? Where was another way out? My soldier's instincts took over, and I could imagine the enemy finding these escape doors and hatches, hiding in wait while the orcs stormed the main entrance, burning everything as they went. The smoke would kill most. The orcs would kill the rest. And when the air cleared, the black army would claim Mirkwood as their own. With Dol Guldur in the south, and Mirkwood in the north, they would look to the west … Lothlórien. The Rhovanion and the Golden Woods would be their breeding grounds, and their army would increase tenfold.

"Captain Rúmil!" Corweth shouted. How long had she been calling to me?

"Oh … yes … I'm sorry, you were saying?" I stammered, never hearing a word she said.

She lifted her hand, palm facing upwards, and gestured towards Prince Legolas.

"You seem troubled, Captain. Are you feeling well?"

"Fine … my lord … just fine."

He bowed to Corweth and gave a smile. "I'll take our guest from here. Thank you Corweth."

She returned a bow, and gave me a final glare. Legolas noticed, and when she was gone, he laughed quietly. "You know how to charm a lady, don't you?"

"I do, my lord, but she is no lady."

He laughed heartily at that and grasped my shoulder. "I like you more with every comment you make, Captain Rúmil. I should like to share in a meal and a bottle of wine with you later."

"Well, my lord–"

"I thought I said no titles," he whispered.

"You said no titles while we were speaking in private. And besides, you have addressed me as Captain. I'll not disrespect your position as long as you specify my title," I reminded him.

"Then we shall dine informally," he insisted.

"I would like that. However, after I speak with your father, I was hoping to start out for home. I've been here more days than I care to be … uh … militarily speaking, of course."

"I hate to disappoint you, but you will not be able to leave until the morning. No one travels the woods at night. So it seems you are stuck with us for one more day." He seemed to enjoy my torture, as he smiled.

"Very well. Then I look forward to food, wine and conversation tonight. Now, if you don't mind . . ."

"Of course, Captain. This way." He gestured to a set of stairs that led to one of the stone bridges. It ended at a dais with an exaggerated throne carved from wood. The seat and back were lined with red, and plush for the King's comfort. It was a very wide chair. Two people could sit comfortably upon it.

"I was hoping to speak with him privately," I mentioned before we climbed the stairs.

"Oh, and you will, but my father is in a meeting with some of his captains at the moment. I thought I would give you a tour while we wait. Are you well enough to walk?" he asked politely.

"I get a twinge every once in a while, but I am healed for the most part." It would actually ease some of the tension I'd built up over meeting with King Thranduil. And I wanted to see more of this underground palace.

It was a very confusing place for an outsider. Legolas and I would climb a set of stairs or cross a bridge, and enter into a dark corridor, only to come out on the other side to a room full of light. That room might have two or three corridors leading from it, and who knew where they went. Sometimes we would enter a hall and come out in the same room, but on the opposite side. If the Prince meant to bewilder me, then he was doing a damn fine job of it.

I saw dining halls, dance halls, laundry rooms and kitchens. There were guest rooms of every kind, and most looked like they hadn't been occupied in a long time. Mirkwood did not get many visitors, and no one uninvited was allowed to pass beyond the river. I was told that my own guest quarter was ready for me. I actually wished that I could stay in my patient room. At least there was always someone around. The guest area seemed abandoned.

My thoughts of the Healing Halls made me think about the poor elf brought in with the leg injury, and I mentioned this much to Legolas. "How is he?" I inquired.

"He is doing much better, but he will have to undergo another surgery, and then learn to walk with the aid of crutches. Unfortunately, he'll never fight again," he said sadly.

"You were very good with him. A sign of a good leader is to have time for his men on a personal level."

"Ai, so I've been taught. I help where I can." He seemed distant as we discussed his troops.

"You must be a great comfort to your troops on the battlefield." My comment affected Legolas, as he shied away from the conversation. "Do you not fight alongside your men?"

We turned another corner and found ourselves in a library. I was actually surprised that Thranduil had one. I couldn't picture him being an elf with a love of the written word. And all the while, Legolas remained silent. I thought I might have overstepped some boundary, but once we were alone in the library, he opened up to me.

"I fought and trained beside many of the elves that go out there every day. And before the darkness spread, I marched into many battles with them. I want nothing more than to be next to them now." He turned from me, and ran a finger along the edge of one of the bookcases. "My father will not allow it … for now at least. The risk is too high. You see, I am his only heir. Should something happen to him, I must take over the throne and lead our people to victory."

"Pardon me, Prince Legolas, but I have heard many stories of your superb archery. No one even comes close to your talent," I said as a sincere compliment.

He glanced over his shoulder, giving me a half smile. "I thank you, Rúmil. Tis been a very long while since I've been reminded of that. I almost forget."

"A soldier never forgets how to use his weapon, no matter how long it's been," I assured him.

Something changed between us, and I could almost hear his blood pumping faster through his veins. We were completely alone, and Legolas shed his royal demeanor for something more relaxed and wanton. There was a dangerous flicker in his eyes.

"And just how long has it been, Rúmil?" he asked, head cocked to the side and his long wheat colored hair spilling over his shoulder.

"Since I fired my weapon?" I said, playing dumb.

"Since you've fired anything … your weapon, your cock. I'm not picky as to where this conversation goes." His satiny voice captured me unexpectedly.

"That's a bit brash, don't you think?" I complained. He was very good at the seduction game. I was just surprised that he wanted to seduce _me_.

"You don't fool me. I know what you are."

"And what is that?" I was treading a perilous line.

"You are a risk taker. Your spirit is wild, but you contain it most brilliantly. Still, I can feel something emanating from you, a need for freedom to explore this part of you that you keep isolated." As he spoke, he came closer to me. I scented his aura, a curious mixture of summer grasses and the fresh winds that swept over them. There was also a feral note intertwined within it, something purely Wood elf. "You hold yourself high like any Lórien elf might do. You are educated, well bred. But this aloofness that you are displaying is not a natural part of your character. It only exists with the visible aspect of your personality, not the internal."

He was mentally striping me of that in which I hid from everyone, and he was succeeding. "And here we are in private, discussing my character. I'd say you hide it just as well as any Lórien elf," I said with a smirk.

"I only speak in private for your benefit, not for mine. You've been raised to hide that which comes naturally to you. I have not. Wood elves do not smote the flames that burn within. It is our fire that makes us fierce. And it is your fire that I see burning brighter than any other, but it is contained … trapped deep inside you, nothing more than a flame. But if you were to stoke that fire, let it burn white hot . . ." He paused and gave a deep indecorous laugh. "Well, if I didn't know better, I'd say you are not that different from a Wood elf."

He had me almost ready to release that fire, but I reached far back into my training, to that which I protected most, and let my ire rise in order to cover the truth. "I am nothing like the Wood elves, I assure you of that," I said defiantly. "I might hide parts of my personal life to keep my secret, but I do it for a good cause. There are very strict rules in the Lórien army that ban what I believe you are suggesting and–"

"Yes, your biggest downfall," he interrupted. He moved even closer to me, and his cunning smile flashed in my direction. "Soldiers are men only, and men shall not fraternize with one another because it would be … distracting. I disagree with that way of thinking," he noted. He was standing behind me, and I did not move a muscle.

"It is a rule that I must uphold, no matter my circumstances."

"But you easily admit that you are inclined to admire the male form," he said. His breath touched the back of my neck. "Curious how you have no trouble revealing yourself to me."

"I appreciate many forms. It doesn't mean I act on my admiration for them."

I felt his hand lift the hair from my neck. "I guess my next question is … do you want to act upon it?"

I took a step forward and turned to face him. "Are you suggesting that you and I –"

"Since you have brought it up." His eyes traveled down his own form, settling on his lower region. I understood the innuendo.

"I don't think that would be … appropriate," I answered nervously. I could not deny that Legolas was an alluring creature. There were many aspects to his beauty besides his looks. He was bold, unafraid to acknowledge his wants and needs, though I was unsure whether he was used to being denied them. He was honest with himself as well as others, but he had that luxury, didn't he? I wondered at what life might be like in Mirkwood, where there were no rules against elves of my situation within their army. It didn't seem to make them any less a soldier. They weren't rutting like beasts, ignoring any threats from the outside.

But then, the Wood elves would not venture out too far to confront the enemy. They'd been pushed, herded almost, until they were contained to their underground palace. I was reminded of a turtle that sunk into its shell, waiting for the danger to pass before he would come out again. I was sure that the jaw of our enemy was strong enough to crush that shell, and I was reminded of my mission and why I was in Mirkwood in the first place.

"Would you please take me to see your father now? It's been long enough. I'm sure his meeting is finished."

"Will you still dine with me tonight, Rúmil? I do enjoy your company," he asked sincerely.

"I cannot refuse the Prince of Mirkwood, now can I?"

"Well, you could, but it would not bode well for you."

I couldn't help a smile escaping the corner of my mouth. He was a charmer to be sure, and I liked playing his game. "Then I accept your invitation wholeheartedly."

We left the library and made our way along more corridors and a bridge, where we finally came to the King's meeting chamber, reserved for private audiences only. We entered the room, decorated with detailed tapestries of past battles. Hanging in the center of the room was a candlelight chandelier made from multiple deer antlers. And on a chair near the hearth was a throw made of rabbit pelts. On the floor before the hearth was a bearskin rug, the head still attached and staring towards the door, mouth open, and bearing its canine teeth in a perpetual roar. And on the other side of the room was a long table made of thick wood, carved with leaf patterns that represented the many beech trees that grew within Mirkwood.

I was a bit shocked to see the antlers and animal skins. I'd never known any elves to keep trophies such as these. Legolas must have seen me observing the bear rug in particular. He commented right away. "Nothing is killed for sport, I assure you."

"I'm sure it is not," I smiled skeptically. "In Lothlórien, we have better uses for animal hides besides decorating the floor. We would make clothes or boots out of them."

"Here, the spiders would scent the furs easily," he said. I could see his point.

I walked around the room, admiring the tapestries. One in particular caught my attention. "The Battle of the Five Armies?" I wondered aloud.

"Yes it is. And this one over here is the Battle of Dagorlad," he said with pride. "My father and grandfather fought in that war. Only my father returned."

"It is said that your grandfather fought bravely." I knew the story well. Oropher was very stubborn and set in his ways. In the first assault on Mordor, he charged into battle before Gil-galad gave the command to do so. It cost Oropher his life, as well as two thirds of his army.

"He was brave and strong, but he was hasty. Had he waited for his orders, there would have been more elves on the battlefield. His life might have been spared."

"Is it not the way of the Wood elves, to rush headlong into battle?" I asked.

"You make it sound as though we run amuck without any sense of direction or strategy. My grandfather gave his life for the cause."

"Gil-galad commanded the armies, not Oropher. When your grandfather charged into Mordor, he did so without orders," I argued. "Had he waited for–"

"We wait for no one," Legolas responded, clearly irritated by my statement. "And no one commands a Wood elf besides his King."

I stepped away from the Prince, and spoke before realizing what I'd said. "And you are a prime example of this, otherwise you would be out there fighting alongside your people."

I was positive that I was going to be sent to the cells this time. I don't know what came over me when I got into these discussions with the Prince, but it was as if I wanted to raise his dander and test him. It angered me that he was such a remarkable talent, but he was being held back, locked away like one of his father's precious jewels. I began to wonder if Haldir made the right decision by sending me here. If he thought I would be able to get through to the King, he might end up disappointed.

Legolas' brows had creased together, and his eyes had turned to dagger-filled slits. I thought it was safe to assume that our dinner arrangements were canceled. All fine and well with me. I'd deliver my message to King Thranduil, tell him it was his duty to join in an attack upon Dol Guldur, and whatever else we might discuss, and in the morning, I'd be on my way back to Lothlórien.

I waited for Legolas to respond to my unwise statement. He glared at me, and I did not back down or look away. Just when it seemed he was about to say something, there came a knock on the door. Both of us turned to look, and Legolas beckoned the visitor in. It was a messenger, sent by the King.

"Prince Legolas, your father has sent me to inform you of his whereabouts," the messenger said.

"Why? Where is the King?"

"He has decided it would be best for him to respond to a few situations in person. He said not to expect him to return for several more days. You are to rule in his absence."

I stepped forward and addressed the messenger. "But I've requested an audience with your King. We were to meet here."

The messenger, a slight elf with long auburn hair, smiled arrogantly, and gave a bow of his head in my direction. "Captain Rúmil of Lothlórien, I presume. I'm sure His Grace will apologize for any inconvenience he has caused. If you must return to Lothlórien, I'm sure you may do so tomorrow morning."

"However," Legolas interrupted suddenly. "If he wishes to wait, he is more than welcome to stay as my guest, and I shall see to it that he has everything he needs to make himself comfortable." He turned to me, hands folded behind his back, taking his new role as ruler seriously. "But the Captain has voiced his concern about the length of his stay already, and he is anxious to return home," said Legolas speaking for me as though I wasn't in the room. He knew how badly I wanted to leave, and after our small disagreement, I was sure he was glad to see me go. But I was not about to be forced out.

"Shall I prepare your departure for tomorrow morning, Captain?" the messenger asked.

I could stay, wait for the King to return, take a chance that he would refuse to do his part in this war, and waste a week in which I could have been traveling back home. Or, I could finally get out of this forsaken place. Haldir would not be pleased. No doubt, if he were in this situation, he would stay. He would say I did not try hard enough, and he'd be right. No, I couldn't leave, not yet. I never did anything half-arsed, and no pretty blue-eyed Prince would chase me away.

"I'll be staying until I speak with the King," I firmly told the messenger. I could feel Legolas' eyes upon me, and they were not looking upon me with kindness.

"Escort Captain Rúmil to the guest quarters, and see that a meal is sent to his room," Legolas commanded, and then in a hushed whisper he added, "I doubt he will want to dine with us heathens."

I left with the messenger and did not look back. I smiled to myself, though. I guess no one had ever stood up to the Prince before, and I knew he would not have been so angry if he didn't already think that I was right about his father holding him back. Deep down, he knew this. He knew his talent was being wasted, sitting beneath the ground day after day while his friends risked their lives. I may have to live two separate lives and hide my secret, but at least I was not being held back from doing what I loved most. The same could not be said for Legolas. He had the freedom of living without fear of discovery, but he was burdened by his royal blood when it came to fighting. I guess he was right to say that we had a lot more in common than we thought.


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

I laid in my new bed in a room somewhere down the empty guest quarters hall, surrounded by darkness, buried beneath the earth. I wondered if this was what it would feel like to die, to be set in a grave. Would my body know the coldness of stone or the loneliness of the dark? Would my fëa dwell here until it was called to Mandos? Maybe, if I died before I could sail West. Did it matter how I died as to whether my fëa would leave the body quickly or be left to flutter about waiting for permission to leave the vessel's side? If that was true, I'd pray for a valiant end, to die in war and sacrifice myself so my fëa would depart immediately. Always the soldier, I thought to myself.

I was a guest of the King and of the acting King, and therefore, I was given permission to wander about certain areas of the palace. I thought that I would not, to only go where I was summoned to go, but my stomach complained quite loudly at this late hour. I'd been awake for too long and I'd grown hungry. Supper came to my room just as the Prince had ordered. It was scrumptious, even though it was only seasoned vegetables and a bowl of broth. I was sure Legolas was responsible for the choice brought to me. No meat, curious, especially after I looked distastefully at the unusual use of animal decor in the Kings audience chamber. He must have assumed that Lórien elves did not eat meat, which was completely untrue. Of course, it could have been ordered purposefully. That seemed more likely to me. Legolas couldn't deny me food, but he could send me whatever he preferred. No matter. It would take more than a boring meal to chase me away. I came to Mirkwood for a reason, and I would not leave until my task was completed.

I got out of bed and dressed, only putting on my leggings and undershirt. The shirt was long enough. It resembled nightclothes, if anyone should be about the palace at this time of night. I slipped into my boots and left my room in search of food so that I could possibly go back to sleep. I never could sleep on an empty stomach. It was the reason I always kept a leaf-wrapped bundle of lembas with me. But it had spoiled long before I reached the palace, a moldy victim of the humid forest environment.

I somehow managed to find my way to the kitchen. Legolas had brought me here during our tour. I knew it wasn't far from the main hall. I just had to remember which corridor to take in order to find it. Success was quick, and I found myself in a deserted kitchen. The pots were all clean and hanging in their proper places. The stoves were cold, the fires having gone out hours ago.

It was a very big room, the kitchen. One wall had shelves from floor to ceiling. Boxes, jars, bottles, and a number of miscellaneous items were housed here. Other shelves held smaller pots and pans, a few larger cooking utensils, baskets and dishes for serving. The wall opposite was where the fireplaces, wood burning stoves and fire pits were situated. And in the very center of the kitchen was a long wooden table where the meals were prepared. It was worn with knife marks and berry stains, and places where it had been scoured from multiple cleanings. Drying herbs hung above the table, where there was a grid of wooden dowels used for hanging the different plants. It smelled delicious; sage, lavender, rosemary, and thyme just to name a few.

I walked around the table, stacked with bowls, baskets, and cutting boards, and looked for any leftovers. They were all clean and emptied of their contents from the earlier dinner service. Not even a roll was left. The cooks were very thorough in their cleaning skills. My stomach complained audibly with disappointment.

"Looking for something to eat?" I heard him say. I turned and found Legolas in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing dark green leggings and a half-buttoned shirt. He leaned against the frame, one barefoot crossed over the other, and his arms folded. He wore no braids in his hair, and it spilled over his shoulders, framing his handsome face. His eyes looked over me with softness, not like the sharp slits they had been the last time we spoke. "Did you not find your meal enjoyable?"

"I did, though it was lacking sustenance. A few slices of venison or wild boar might have sufficed," I answered.

"Which do you prefer?" he asked, head tilting to the side, and his eyes fixed on me.

"I've always leaned more toward venison myself. And you?"

"Venison is delicious, but nothing compares to a properly cooked boar. I like a meat that I can … sink my teeth into." He was doing it again, making small talk while implying something more salacious. "You won't find any meat here, though."

"I haven't found much of anything here," I said, looking around the well-organized kitchen.

"Oh, there's food here. You just have to know where to look." He walked over to one of the shelves and stepped up on the third one from the floor, stretched as far as he could, and retrieved a basket. His frame was long and slim, but his upper body and arms definitely gave away his occupation, an archer's physique for sure. "The cook always keeps something up here," he said, lowering the basket, and handing it to me.

"How did you know?" I smiled, seeing five or six large red apples inside.

"When I was just an elfling, I spent a lot of time in the kitchens. I learned the cook's secret by watching her. She would save the first loaf of a batch of bread, or the first pears from a fresh barrel. One time I found sweet rolls," he explained, reaching back to the memories of his youth.

"Why would she hide food?" I asked. It seemed like an odd thing for a cook to do when there was always food available.

"Stems back to when she was small. Her mother and father were killed, and she was orphaned, forced to live alone in the wild, scrounging for anything edible. It's a habit she was never able to break free of."

"Sounds awful," I sympathized.

"Well, it was awful for me when she found out what I'd been up too. Reveth, the cook, she scolded me something terrible the first time she caught me climbing the shelf and raiding her cache of food. Of course, I didn't pay her any mind. I kept right on doing it." He climbed back down as he told me his story, and took the basket from me, setting it on the table. Then he retrieved two apples from the basket and tossed one to me, continuing his tale. "And then one day, my mother died, and I stopped coming to the kitchen. I stopped going anywhere, stayed safely tucked away in my room, by order of my father, the King. He was terrified that something was coming for me too." He paused from his story, and I could see the renewed pain lacing his face.

"I remember hearing the news about your mother. We sang a lament for her in Lothlórien."

"I never knew that," he said.

I nodded. "I remember it quite clearly. My mother sailed not but a year before. I was so young, I did not understand, and I thought they were singing for her, to remember her." I wasn't sure why I was telling the Prince this, but something compelled me to. "When I asked my father, he explained it to me, told me it was the Queen of the Green Leaves that passed." I realized that I was taking the storytelling away from him and stopped. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to change–"

"No, it's quite alright. You suffered a loss too," he interrupted with a caring look in my direction.

"I wouldn't say it was a loss, not like yours. My mother awaits her family in Valinor."

"She was not there for you as you grew and matured. I would say that is a loss of proportionate size," Legolas pointed out.

We were silent for a moment, and we broke the quiet by taking a few more bites of our apples. The sweet crispy fruit seemed to distract us from our sadness, and I suddenly wanted to know more about this cook and little Prince Legolas. "So, you are all grown up, and Reveth still fills her basket," I said in a jesting manor.

"As I was saying, after I lost my mother, I think she felt sorry for me. Or maybe it reminded her of her own loss and hardship. I eventually came out of my room, once my father felt the danger had passed, but I did not climb the shelf anymore. I sat in that corner," he said, pointing to the end of the wall with the shelves. There was an overturned bucket, probably used to mop the floors. "I was so lost during those first months without my mother. Anyways, one day, Reveth took me aside and asked me to retrieve something for her. It was inside the same basket where she used to hide her food. I climbed and reached inside, and I found an apple as well as a drawing of my mother, the Queen. Reveth drew it, and told me to never forget my mother, her teachings, or what she stood for. And that there would always be food for me in that basket." He smiled at the memory. "And there always is."

"You are very fortunate to have Reveth," I said. "But why were you always in the kitchen? Didn't you have a nanny to care for you when your father was away or too busy?"

"I had teachers and tutors, but no nanny. There was always someone by my side telling me what to do or how to do it. One taught swordplay, and another taught archery. One taught me to sing, and another taught me to read and write. But Reveth, she never taught me anything like that. She gave me life lessons … how to carry myself and be aware of my manners, how to behave like a proper gentleman, how to gain and keep an elleth's attention . . ."

"You must not have listened very well to that one," I jested.

He laughed and took a bite of his apple. I was shamelessly half way through with mine. "I paid attention, but I put my own version of it into play once I was older. How to charm an ellon, not much different from influencing a female, if you know the right things to say."

"I'd say you're still learning," I said boldly.

He took another bite, and his eyes penetrated my own. "Are you offering your tutoring services?" A sly smile turned the corner of his mouth as he chewed. "Tell me, what I have done wrong when trying to gain an ellon's attention."

Embarrassed, I shook my head and looked away. "I don't think I'm qualified to say."

"You've had lovers, haven't you?" he asked.

"Of course."

"Relationships?"

"Only two," I answered.

"So what drew you to them that made you want to have a special bond rather than a meaningless fling?" he asked with enthusiasm. "Was it looks? Wealth? The size of his cock?" he laughed.

"Personality," I answered without waiting. "We were compatible. We understood each other. We respected one another."

"Interesting," he said, setting his half eaten apple on the table. "If you were so compatible, then why are they gone?"

I bowed my head and looked at the floor, defeated by his line of questioning. "Because my love of being a soldier always comes first."

"Ah, the army thing again," Legolas said, nodding. "Funny isn't it? One wants to fuck and chooses to fight. The other wants to fight and chooses to fuck."

"It's not really your choice, though, is it? Not when your father orders you to stay within the palace."

"Oh, so now it is my father's orders. Yesterday, you made it seem as though I hid underground instead of fighting with my people," he said with temper beginning to flare.

I remembered what I said to him before and felt ashamed. "Our conversation yesterday went a bit astray, and I apologize for my comments. They were uncalled for."

There was a flash of relief on his face to hear me say this, but it disappeared faster than it came, and he waved a hand in the air. "No need. Actually, I'm glad for it. You are an outsider looking in. You see things for what they are, and you're right. I am following my father's orders. I'm supposed to. It doesn't mean I like it, but I must."

I took a step closer to Legolas, coming to his side, and I put my hand on his shoulder. "Thranduil is King, but he is your father first. Talk to him. Let him know how you feel. Tell him you want to join the battle."

"If it was that easy, I would have done it already. No, this is more than wanting to protect his only heir. This is punishment for a poor decision I made recently." He turned to me with a forced smile. "But enough about me. You know you do not have to stay. Obviously you do not like it here. With my father away on business, and I left in charge of the kingdom, you could hold an audience with me, as acting King, and be on your way at first light."

I hadn't thought about that. He was right. I did want to leave, but I found myself drawn to this place all of a sudden. I'd learned a few of its secrets, and saw a glimmer of hope that I might convince King Thranduil to join Lothlórien in a war against Dol Guldur. And I thought I could do this by using his son to help him come to a decision. "Actually, it will be more beneficial if I speak directly to you father, since he has a final say in all matters concerning his kingdom. No offence to you, Prince Legolas."

"None taken, and allow me to apologize for your meager meal earlier. I'm afraid that was my fault," he said sincerely.

"A clean slate, they say, for us both," I said and bowed.

"Remember, none of that while we are speaking casually," he corrected, taking my elbow and gesturing for me to straighten. His fingers dwelt on my arm unusually long, but I found myself liking the feel of his touch. I couldn't, though. He was the King's son, the son of the elf I needed to convince to fight for the realm. No, I had to be careful how I interacted with Legolas. I pulled away and left his hand cupping the air. He watched me curiously, and then turned away. "Have I satisfied you?" he asked.

"Pardon?" I wasn't sure what he meant by that.

Legolas glanced over his shoulder, blue eyes sparkling with some naughty thought. "The apple, was it enough or shall I acquire something else for you."

"Oh," I said with a sigh of relief. "Yes, the apple was just fine. I believe I'll be able to sleep now."

"And if you find that you cannot, don't hesitate to knock on my door."

I wondered when he was going to try that again. "Alas, I do not know where the Prince's quarters are located. That part of the palace was not on the tour, if you remember."

"Well, perhaps the next time sleep evades you–"

"I'll know where the apples are hidden," I said slyly, finishing his sentence.

He gave a chuckle and left the kitchen.

* * *

><p>The next day, I showed myself around the underground palace, and somehow managed to find someplace new. What I thought was a corridor leading to the armory, emptied into a huge, brightly lit garden. I was shocked to see it. I didn't think anything could be grown underground, but here it was right in front of me. There was row after row of herbs and vegetables, fruit trees and grape vines. Everything needed to sustain life under a hill in a dark forest was growing in this one place.<p>

"Captain Rúmil, how good to see you again." It was Messel. I hadn't seen here since I was bound to my bed in the Healing Hall.

"You are a lovely sight this morning, Messel," I replied with a proper bow.

"And how is your leg?" she asked with a bright smile.

"Almost completely healed. I saw the healer earlier, and she redressed the wound. I won't need dressing the next time she sees me, she says. Delightful news to my ears. Those bandages begin to itch after a while." I looked around the grand room with awe. "This is incredible. I had no idea it even existed. Tell me, how do you get the light to touch the entire floor?" In the ceiling, above the center of the room was an opening to the outside. Sunlight could shine down to the floor of the cave, but I couldn't understand how it spread throughout the room.

"We use large mirrors, not unlike a lady's looking glass that she might keep on her vanity. They capture and reflect the light from above, and send it in all directions. We can turn them to direct the light anywhere we want it to go. Or, like you see here, it delivers light evenly across the entire room."

"What an ingenious design," I said, stunned. "But what about the opening. Doesn't it leave you vulnerable to attack?"

"There are guards always stationed above. Any sign of the enemy, and they can signal to the gardeners below. There is a door that can be closed by the elves turning those big wheels," Messel said as she pointed in the direction of the wooden wheels. "In only a few short minutes, the ceiling can be sealed. No light can pass, of course, but as soon as the threat is gone, the door is opened back up. We are very lucky that there has only been one such threat, but the guards extinguished it quickly, and the doors were not closed for very long."

"Amazing. Simply amazing," I gawked.

"You sound surprised, Captain. Did you not think that the Wood elves could invent something as useful and secure as this?"

"Well … I … I don't know. I guess I never thought about it before. I just assumed there were gardens above ground."

"There used to be, many years ago, but the threat from the enemy has become much too great to risk the lives of our farmers."

We strolled down several aisles, and I took note of all the different types of food growing, peppers, tomatoes, lettuces, and corn, just to name a few.

"You must miss the topside world," she stated after a while.

"I do, Messel, the trees in particular," I said longingly.

"Then we must go outside, and cure what ails you. Come with me. I'll show you to the practice grounds."

My heart raced at the thought of shooting my bow. "Let me stop by my guest quarters first, so that I can grab my weapon."

"Of course," Messel smiled, and we were on our way.

* * *

><p>Top side, at last. The air was a bit humid, but at this point I could care less. I was outside … above ground, and it was wonderful. Trees grew all around us. Not the gnarled diseased trees that grew in the dark parts of the forest, but healthy trees, beech, cedar, oak. The sunlight cut through the canopy, making beams that touched my skin, warming me instantly, filling me with delight. I hadn't been outside in over a week, and I didn't realize until now just how much I missed it.<p>

"Where are the practice grounds?" I asked.

"Not far," Messel said as we walked along a path cutting through the forest. After a little while, it opened up into a glade. The ground was flat here, no longer sloping where the hill was. I guessed we had left the palace behind, and we were now in the area surrounding the underground kingdom.

There was a group of Wood elves on the opposite side of the area, standing in a row, looking to their right as they listened to the advice of none other than the Prince. He spoke with the intensity of one who loved the sport, and so he should. He was the best in all the realms, but I had never had the opportunity to see his talent until now.

Legolas took his position in front of the targets, all the while telling the others what to pay attention to. He nocked an arrow, aimed and hit his target dead center. He did this all in one swift move, not even stopping to line up his aim. Then he did it twice more, talking to his men as he fired one after another. It seemed he barely even looked at where he was firing, and hit center each time. When he was through giving his example, he turned the others loose to practice on their own for a while. The Prince's attention then turned towards Messel and me. He smiled and approached, and his eyes caught mine.

"You've arrived at the perfect time, Captain," he said, using my proper title in front of the other elves. "The men will be busy for a while, and I see that you've brought your bow. What do you say we have a little target practice of our own?"

"I'd like that very much, Prince Legolas," I responded.

"I'm sorry my Prince, but I must get back to my sister. We have some business to tend to. Hopefully next time I might join you," said Messel disappointedly.

"Perhaps next time you and your sister might join me," Legolas said, but his tone suggested something other than target practice. It made me wonder.

Messel, raised a skeptical brow, but she turned to me instead. "Shall I come back and escort you to your quarters when you are finished, Captain? It is easy to lose your way around the corridors."

"I'll bring him," Legolas answered quickly. "I'm done with the men for the day, and I have some free time."

"Very well," Messel answered. "Captain, as usual, it is a pleasure." She turned to Legolas. "My Prince," she finished with a bow.

Legolas watched her walk away, a sly look on his face that surprised me. "If I were any other kind of elf . . ." He did not finish the sentence, but I understood what he meant. Just because we preferred males to females did not mean we couldn't appreciate the beauty of a woman, and Messel was a definite beauty.

"And she is a twin," I added.

He looked at me, his eyes dancing with amusement. "You know something about twins?"

"Not … from … personal experience," I stammered.

Legolas began walking away from the group of practicing elves, and I followed. "For a moment, I thought you might have been to Imladris before." He looked over his shoulder at me with a sly grin. "If you should ever go there, be very wary of Lord Elrond's sons."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said, unsure of what he meant by that comment, and very curious all the same.

On the other side of the grounds was another practice area, with dummies made to look like orcs. It was a good likeness, I thought. I'd seen my fair share of the beasts to know.

"So, you are the Captain of an archery regiment, sent in before the other troops to minimize the number of enemies on the front lines. Is that correct?" he asked as we stood before the dummies.

"That would right. We attack from the trees, mostly. Hit the enemy with a downpour of arrows, and while they are distracted, disoriented, and dying, the ground troops run in."

"Interesting method. And successful?" he wondered.

"Very, my lord." He seemed to wince at the way I addressed him, but rules were rules, and we were not alone.

"Let's see what you've got, then." He gestured for me to take my turn first. I nodded and took my bow from my back. Legolas went and retrieved a wooden bucket of arrows, and set it at my feet. "Wouldn't want you wasting any of your well-made Lórien arrows. You'll need them when you leave Mirkwood."

I looked at the practice arrows, and I was dissatisfied with their quality. It would be difficult to show my talents with these used and bent sticks. Now, why would Legolas want me to use them … unless he feared that I might actually come close to his own natural ability? What had he heard about me, and from whom? It could only be Haldir, who had been to Mirkwood half a dozen times over the years. That made me curious as to what else they might have discussed during those visits, especially if my brother spoke of his family on a personal level.

"Any time you're ready, Captain," Legolas said, breaking my thoughts.

I pushed the bucket aside with my foot and smiled kindly to the Prince. "If it's all the same to you, I'll just use my own arrows. I can always make more for the journey home."

"As you wish," Legolas answered, and he moved away to give me enough personal space to ready my mind and my body for archery.

I cleared my head of anything but my goal to hit the enemy where it would bring instant death. I took my position, adjusted my stance, my back, and my legs, reached into my quiver and nocked an arrow. Elbow up, arm straight, pull back, feel the right amount of tension in the strings, aim, breathe out and . . . Just as I hoped for, right through the heart of the beast dummy.

"Excellent death shot," Legolas said sounding impressed. "My turn." He took his place, drew his bow and an arrow from his quiver, and fired hitting it right between the eyes. His moves were so swift, yet smooth like a dance. I almost didn't see him looking at his target. "Now, aim to deprive him of death," he said.

"Pardon?" I asked.

"Let's say you only want to impair him so you can interrogate him as your prisoner," Legolas explained.

"And why would I want to do that?"

Legolas rolled his eyes. "You soldiers are all alike. Kill, kill, kill. But there are times when information must be drawn from the enemy. Where do you shoot him?"

He was testing me. Fine, I would play his game. I moved faster than I did the first time, and pulled another arrow from my quiver, nocked it to the bow and fired into the leg. Then I quickly repeated my actions, burying my arrow into the other leg. I smiled, proud of my choice. "Alive and immobile."

"Not bad, Captain, but now you will have to interrogate him where he lay, since he cannot walk. And in Mirkwood, it is never a good idea to stay in one place for very long." He took two used arrows from the bucket and nocked them. Then he gave a clever smile. "Watch this," he whispered.

Legolas stood with his feet apart, back straight, elbow up and parallel with the ground. As he brought his arm back, I could see his biceps tense. He would have to pull back further than normal in order to fire two arrows at once. He aimed at the practice dummy, but then he raised his bow at an angle. When he did that, I couldn't help but notice how long and straight his body was. He had perfect form. No wonder he was the best. I was so enthralled just watching him line up his shot, I almost missed said shot. Still, he was using a pair of worn arrows, and I could clearly see that they had a slight bend in the shaft. This would never work, I thought to myself. The arrows were useless. He'd be lucky to hit anything but the ground. And then, he released both arrows at once. They flew upwards, crisscrossed and came down in perfect synchronicity, striking the dummy in each shoulder. I was truly amazed by what I'd just seen. I was speechless for a moment.

Legolas turned to me, confidence brimming. There was something about an extremely confident ellon that made my blood pulse faster through my veins, and Legolas reeked of it. "You see, Captain. An injury like that leaves your captive free to walk, but he can't use his arms. That way he cannot fight back as he is taken into custody. The arrows in the shoulders are also good for forcing the information from him if he won't talk. It is a very painful injury, especially when the arrows are moved about. Renders his arms utterly useless, but the pain is excruciating. Just a twist, and he'll give you the name of every piece of scum in his army."

I hardly heard what he said. I was still astounded by the fact that he'd used arrows that weren't even fit to pick my teeth with. "We … don't usually … interrogate . . ." I stammered, but my words faded as I walked up to the dummy to examine it more closely. "These arrows are bent."

"Yes. And?" he said nonchalantly.

"And they … well you…" I pointed upwards, and then downwards, my finger ending at the entry wound. "They crossed and . . ." I looked back to see Legolas smiling, his white teeth glimmering and his eyes alive with joy. I think it had been a very long time since he'd impressed someone new.

"Another lesson for you, Captain. Use what you've got and make the best of it."

"Will you show me how you did that?" I felt like I was an elfling again, just learning to fire my bow.

He laughed and called me back to him. I walked at a fast pace, ready for my first lesson. Then he took two arrows from the bucket and handed them to me. These were just like the ones he shot, bent, notched along the shaft, and even blunt at their tips. They looked utterly useless.

"The idea is to make them work for you. You know a bent arrow never flies straight, but you can still force it to work to your advantage." He took one of the arrows from me and pulled a small knife from his belt. As he did so, he pushed aside the dark green robe he wore, and I could see the outline of his waist because of his snug-fitting tunic. He was very lean. Legolas proceeded to run the sharp knife along the edge of one side of the yellow fletching, reshaping it. He held it to his eye, looking down the shaft of the arrow, and then handed it back to me. "Do you see what I did?"

I looked down the arrow's shaft, and noticed the bend and the adjustment to the fletching. "It counters the bend?" I asked, one eye closed as I examined it.

"Exactly. And it is also important to hold the arrows to the bow so that they bend away from each other."

I nocked both arrows to my bow, and thought about what position to put them in. I'd shot countless double arrows in my lifetime. That much I knew to do, but firing bent arrows? That was confusing me.

"Here, let me show you," said the Prince, coming up behind me. His body contoured to mine, and his hands rested on my forearms. "Turn them so they are bending away from the string," he said. I could feel his warm breath on the back of my ear. Ignoring as best as I could, I adjusted the arrows.

"This does not feel right," I said.

"It's not supposed to. You're using arrows that should have been turned into kindling." His hand traveled down the length of my arm to my hand, and his face came up next to mine. "If the arrows are pointed inwards, they would nick each other. If they face up, they might come back to you, and that would be a very bad thing. Turn them downward and they'll hit ground. But turn them out and away from each other … and now look at the fletching where I shaped it."

I did as he said and suddenly I understood the flight of the arrows. "They'll turn away, and then they'll start to spin, but the fletching will steady them."

"And they'll crisscross and come down straight," he finished explaining. "That's why you want to aim the bow up at an angle." His hands left mine, but they found their way to my sides as he adjusted my stance. "Use your lower back," he said. One hand came to rest at the small of my back. "And tighten your abdominal muscles." His other hand pressed against my lower stomach, and he made a grunting sound. "You are very firm, Captain," he commented.

I did my best to keep my composure, but it was difficult with Legolas touching me in places that were very close to parts of me that hadn't been touched in more than a year. There was no denying the charge I felt from the contact.

"Now," he continued. "Hold your waist steady, lift your aim up." His hands left my waist and took hold of my biceps. I noticed that his grip was tight, as though he was examining me. I automatically flexed, hoping he was impressed, and heard the slightest of moans, though I could have been wrong. "A little further. Good. Now, pull back, gently … gently."

"It's difficult to hold the arrows in this position for very long," I commented, feeling like a new recruit. It had been a few centuries since anyone gave me a lesson by example. "I mean, because they are curved. It feels unnatural."

"That's the thing, Captain. Everything you do should feel natural to you. You don't let something control you. You control it. You make it do whatever you want it to do." His voice was like satin. His breath was caressing my ear and my neck. Suddenly, I'd stay in this position all day just to hear him speak and feel his words wash over my skin. And just like that, Legolas released me from his trance and his grip. He stepped away from me and spoke with authority. "Now fire."

I lined my vision with the angle at which I held my bow, and saw nothing but trees. I knew the target was out of my sights, and I had to trust that my arrows would land where they needed to go. Feeling like I was firing blind, I released the string and watched as the bent arrows flew up, crisscrossed, and came down hitting the dirt at either side of the practice dummy. I'd missed the shot completely.

Legolas laughed from behind me, and then he clapped a hand to my shoulder. "That's alright, Captain. No one does it on their first try. Takes a long time to achieve that shot," he said mockingly.

So, that was his reason for all of this. He wanted to see me fail at something, and he knew there was not much I could not achieve, since I was well trained in archery, and a Captain at that. I knew what he'd shown me as an actual technique, and I understood everything he told me. But he distracted me with his suggestive voice, and the intimacy of his warm breath. And now look at him, puffing like a peacock. Just like a Wood elf to play dirty. Well, I was not about to let him get one over on me. I could make that shot. He'd given me all the tools. I just needed to put them together in the right order.

Legolas was walking back to the elves at the other end of the practice grounds, and I noticed that the men hadn't been practicing all this time. They'd been watching us. I gasped internally, feeling my stomach clench tight, as I thought about what it must have looked like, having the Prince touching me, pressing his body against mine. Instinct told me to worry about the outcome of such intimacy, and I had to remind myself that I was in Mirkwood where no one cared if you rutted on the ground before the King and his court. They probably liked to watch, I said as an afterthought in my anger at the arrogant Prince.

Instead of following him, I turned back to the practice dummies and went straight to the bucket of used arrows. I found two that looked horribly unusable and pulled my knife from my boot. I shaved the yellow feathers of the fletching, just like he showed me. All the while, I could hear Legolas' men tell him to turn, that I was going back for a second try.

"You're wasting your time, Captain Rúmil. You'll never make that shot. Took me months to perfect it and I was the quickest to learn," he called to me.

I ignored him and continued with my task. Maybe I wouldn't hit the target, but damn it, no one tricked me like this, especially not a Wood elf. I was raised proper, to help when help was needed, not to set someone up for failure, and then laugh at them. These Mirkwood elves lacked manners and an understanding for the world outside of their caves. They spoke offensively without knowledge of doing so, or perhaps that's what they wanted everyone to think. They were ignorant and uneducated. And none other than the Prince himself was pissing me off to a degree that no one ever had … for lack of better words. He'd made me just that mad.

Finished with the arrows, I took my position, adjusted my stance, nocked both arrows correctly, straightened, felt the heat of Legolas' handprint still touching my back and stomach, and realized that the focus of my anger was not for playing me as a fool. It was for liking the feel of his hands on me, for internally swooning to the sound of his voice and the suggestive innuendos behind his words. I was angry at myself for wanting him.

"Fuck!" I said in a berating whisper to myself. I tried to unlearn the sensations, but it was too late. Prince Legolas had touched my lust, and I could not take that back. All I could do now was to stay true to myself. I was an elf of Lothlórien. I would not let some Wood elf have his way with me. I knew what he was about now, and I'd build my defenses to ward him off at every turn. A week, the messenger had said about the return of King Thranduil. Just a few more days in this deplorable kingdom of darkness and heathens, and I could leave and never return. How in Mordor was Haldir able to come back here? He was more tolerable than I would ever be, I'd give him that. Or . . .

Or was he seduced by the Prince also. Did Legolas try the same tactics on my brother? I laughed. Haldir would never give in so easily. But then again, he had been to Mirkwood six times. I shook my head of such thoughts. "Ridiculous," I said. "Now, make this shot or look like an even bigger fool, Rúmil."

I pulled my arm back, tilted the bow up, closed my eyes and said a quick prayer to the Valar. Then I released my arrows and watched them fly. They crossed each other, came down towards the dummy and . . .

The left arrow sunk into the ground just behind the dummy, but the right one hit it in the upper arm. It wasn't the shoulder, but it was a hit nonetheless. I did it! Well, only one arrow, but I did it. About this time, I realized that I wasn't breathing and took a gulping breath of moisture filled air. The ringing in my ears dissipated, and I heard the cheers from the other elves. I turned to shoot them an arrogant look, and found Prince Legolas coming towards me at a quick pace. When he was just a few strides away, I straightened my shoulders to look down my nose at him. "What do you have to say to that?" I gloated.

He never slowed his tread as he approached. He was not smiling, nor did he look like he was going to congratulate me. Was he angry? Was he going to pull his knife on me? I braced myself for whatever was going on in his mind. He was just about upon me, and I was sure he was going to punch me. I raised my hands in fists, prepared for him to strike me. Instead, he pushed my hands away and grasped the front of my tunic, pulling me to him. His face was only an inch from mine. His blue eyes had darkened like the sky when it is about to storm. His brows were drawn together. He looked dangerous, unpredictable, and fierce.

"Come on then! Do something!" I challenged, prepared for anything except for what was about to happen.

Legolas captured me with those stormy lust raging eyes. "You, Rúmil, are never afraid to break the rules, fearless when challenged, and, by the gods, I want you. I've wanted you since I first laid eyes upon you." Before I knew it, he was kissing me. His lips were hard and demanding. He devoured my mouth, insistently pushing his tongue between my lips. His body pressed against mine, and I felt his urgency, as solid as an iron rod against my thigh. He pushed me backwards until he had me up against a tree, grinding his hips into mine. Legolas was as uncontrollable as a wildfire, and his skin was a hot as one. Sweet Eru, he felt as though he'd stepped out of the flames of Mount Doom, and it made my own body heat and respond. I couldn't think straight, and I started to give into his persistence when I heard whoops and hollers coming from the other elves.

To say I was embarrassed was an understatement. I was mortified. I was bloody angry for being taken advantage of. And I had a cockstand that felt like the size of an oliphant's trunk. Legolas had me braced against the tree, my arms locked in his grasp. I needed to get free, so I quit resisting him and started moving along to his gyrating hips. His hands slowly slipped down my arms, reaching for the belt at my waist. The fingers of one hand brushed against my leggings, traveling along the length of my swollen cock. My hips bucked involuntarily, and he smiled against my lips, proud to have produced such a reaction from me. I used the small window of opportunity when he left my arms free to move, clenched my hand into a tight fist, swung up and caught him in the stomach. Legolas doubled and pushed away from me. He was shocked at my reaction, and so was I, because somewhere deep down, I didn't want him to stop. It was all so confusing.

At the same moment, the party of onlookers stopped laughing and crowing. Now I heard arrows being pulled from quivers, strings being stretched, and feet marching towards Legolas to protect him. That's when I realized that I'd punched their Prince. No one assaulted royalty that didn't end up in a cell. That's it. I was going to be arrested.

Without turning to his men, Legolas held up a hand to stop them. "I'm alright," he called to them, and they stayed put halfway across the field.

"No one hits the King's son," one of them answered. I watched as they started to come forward again, each set of eyes trained on me.

"I said I am fine. Leave us," Legolas commanded.

"But–"

"Go!" the Prince demanded, cutting short the elf who argued. Reluctantly, the group of elves left the training grounds.

We stood there, facing each other, but unable to look at one another, until we were completely alone. I knew I must apologize. I should never have hit him, but my mind and my emotions were such a jumbled mess. Eventually, I straightened my tunic where Legolas had pulled it out of my belt. As I did, I used the opportunity to speak. "I … I sincerely apologize, my lord. That was uncalled for. I should never have struck out at you."

"It … it's not your fault. I was wrong to … I should not have … but … Valar as my witness, I've never met anyone quite like you. You're an elf of Lothlórien. I'm not supposed to want you. I'm not even supposed to like you. And … and then you . . ." His words faded into silence.

I could feel the power shifting between us, and I used it to my advantage. "I defied you. You challenged me and I passed the test. I proved you wrong. I surpassed you at something. Admit it, Legolas, you wanted to punch me for showing you up in front of your men. I bested you at something that you were good at … the only elf to accomplish it, and I matched your skill."

"Something like that," he responded with a small smile at the corner of his mouth. "I don't know what it is about you, but you come here acting all high and mighty like every elf from Lothlórien thinks they are when compared to the Wood elves. I expected it, to be truthful. Your brother reeks of arrogance towards Wood elves. You try to behave like Haldir, but you're nothing like him. There's something untamable simmering just below your surface, and I feel like it is my duty to release this beast. I felt it just now as I kissed you. I felt it even more when you punched me. It's all right there, Rúmil, and I can be the one who sets it free. And to know how close I am to unleashing you sets me aflame."

"I'm sorry … but … I can't. I can't have anything to do with you."

"Why?" he argued. "You are not bound. You are not betrothed."

"But I am not free," I admitted. My own words shocked me. I hadn't expected to say this, but now that I had, I saw clearer, the reason why.

"There is someone else, isn't there?" he asked. He almost sounded angry.

"There is … well … there was, but–"

"What stops you, Rúmil?"

I searched deep in my soul for the answer that had alluded me for more than a year now. Here it was, staring me in the face, demanding that I acknowledge it. "Love," I said. I closed my eyes and turned from Legolas. I was defeated, and so soon after my victory. I was an emotional mess. "Which way back to my quarters?"

Legolas gave an audible sigh … frustration. "Come, I'll take you there."

"No," I said rather quickly. "I'd prefer it if you just told me the way. Please, I want to be alone right now."

Legolas gave me directions and I left. He respected my wishes and did not follow, but I could tell that he wanted to. He still wanted to know about me, about my past, the real reason I could not set myself free, as he put it. I was far from ready to discuss my past, to say the one name that hadn't passed these lips in quite some time … Túron.


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

So long had it been since I came to Mirkwood. I needed to get home, to get away from this place … from Legolas. The day after our mishap on the practice grounds, I opted to stay in my guest quarters. I couldn't face him after what had happened. What if Thranduil got word that I punched his son. I hoped that would not be the case, and unless one of the onlookers said something, I didn't think he would find out. I was sure Legolas would say nothing.

Ai, Legolas, what was I to do about that? He wanted me, and quite frankly, I … well, I could not deny the way he stirred my blood. His kiss … he was right to say that it awakened something in me. I wanted to know more of him, of his mouth and his body, what he could do to me, and what I might learn about myself. I felt the flame he spoke of. It was something very ancient that had been subdued, not only within me, but for millennia, reaching back beyond my own birth. It was a need to lose inhibitions, to untie the binds that held me back, and discover something unknown to me. I could hardly understand this … calling. I'd been a soldier my whole life. I lived for order, to tame the chaos. But whatever Legolas stirred in me wanted to swim in disorder, to be untamable and live from hour to hour without any plan or path. Kissing Legolas made me feel like a fallen leaf and he was a warm breeze. Wherever he carried me I would go, take my chances, adapt to new surroundings. I didn't want to be ruled, neither did I want to be a ruler. I just wanted to … be.

This was all nonsense, though. How could I be so susceptible to someone so unlike me. He was a Wood elf, I was not. Enough said. He played by a completely different set of rules, if you could even say that Wood elves had rules. Live to see tomorrow, that was their principle. Hold nothing back today, could be their code. I thought about that for a moment. It seemed tempting suddenly. Live in the moment. Worry about tomorrow when tomorrow comes. What would it be like to live day to day? Being a Captain, I was always thinking months in advance. I couldn't afford not to. But the Mirkwood elves lived so close to death and danger, they became dangerous themselves. Tomorrow might not be here for them, but they'd be damned if they didn't put up a glorious fight. It was kind of romantic … in a barbaric sort of way. So it made a little more sense to me why Legolas took me to him and kissed me so boldly. For him, there might never be another chance. It also made sense why women and men fought alongside each other, and why they had no rules against fraternizing. They lived for today, for it might be their last. It was a very courageous, very undaunted way of life, but it was also sad to think that the Wood elves of Mirkwood thought they could become extinct at any given moment. Sure, they were fearless, but did they fear tomorrow? And if so, what an awful thing to have hanging over one's head every day. All these things rattled around in my head as I fell to my slumber that night. Needless to say, I did not have a good night's rest.

* * *

><p>The next morning, I awoke to pounding on my door. I jumped from my bed, but before I could make myself decent, the door flew open and there stood Corweth, dressed in a hunting outfit, leggings, boots and tunic. Her bow and a full quiver of arrows was strapped to her back, and she was smiling fiendishly. I was in nothing more than my undershirt, which was … thank goodness … long enough to cover parts of me that I'd rather not have exposed. This did not keep her from gawking, and her eyes traveled down to places most uncomfortable.<p>

"Oh, why Captain, such nice legs you have," she teased.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, reaching for my cape.

"The Prince sent me. There's been a group of orcs spotted close to the river. Thought you might like to join the hunt. Unless you would rather crawl back into bed and hide yourself away until the King returns. You can do that too. It's your prerogative."

"Hunt?" I asked, still wiping the sleep from my eyes. "Do you mean fight?"

She laughed and shook her head. "This is not a fight, nor is it a battle. It's exactly as I said, a hunt. When it comes to these stupid beasts, there is no contest. Wood elves don't fight, we hunt. So, are you coming or not?"

"Fine, just give me a moment to dress," I said accepting the invitation. I wondered why Legolas did not come himself. Perhaps he was still perplexed by our heated exchange, as I still was. I reached for my clothes and started to unbutton my shirt when I realized that Corweth was still in my room. I glared at her.

"You wanted me to wait for you. I'm waiting," she said.

"Outside," I commanded.

She laughed and went to my door. "Prude," she uttered as she left.

I was beginning to learn my way around, at least from the guest quarters, and I didn't really have to follow Corweth outside, but she gave me no choice. Once out of the palace and in the fresh air, I began to feel revitalized. I would never get used to being underground, away from the trees and the light. If I stayed down there for too long, it started to affect me. Perhaps that was the reason for my solemn mood last night, and my restless sleep.

I looked around the area. There were about ten of us all together. Corweth and her twin sister Messel, Legolas, a few other females and a couple males that I recognized from passing in the corridors. Legolas saw me, smiled and came to me at once. I felt awkward, and tried not to look him directly in the eyes. I couldn't stand the thought of seeing the disappointment in his . . .

"Captain Rúmil, so good of you to join us," Legolas boasted, as though nothing happened the other day.

"Prince Legolas, I appreciate the invitation," I said, mimicking the lightheartedness between us. In truth, I felt very tense being around him, pretending that all was well. Eventually, we would need to talk about it, but not now. "So, Corweth tells me we are going on a hunt."

"That would be correct. There has been a group of orcs spotted on the opposite side of the river, heading upstream, not far from the river crossing." He paused and looked at everyone in the hunting party. "Your orders are to capture their leader for interrogation. Kill the rest. Leave their corpses for the spiders. Whoever brings me the leader will get a barrel of Dorwinion reserved in their name." The group murmured with delight over the prize. Legolas smiled and added, "But I strongly suggest that you consume it with moderation. We all know what happens when you indulge in too much Dorwinion, don't we, Arthon?"

Everyone chuckled and Arthon's color deepened a few shades of red. "I'm just fortunate to still have a place within the palace, my lord."

Corweth shouted over the others. "And so is your friend, Galion. How long's it been since either of you had a glass of port?" The rest of the party laughed.

"Alright, enough," Legolas called out over them. "He learned his lesson long ago. Back to matters at hand. The orcs were said to be a group of about twenty or so, not a large group, but dangerous no less. All rules still apply. You'll take a partner. If one of you gets injured, the other will not leave him or her behind. Safety in numbers as usual. This is not a battle where you only look out for yourself. That being said, these orcs are on the opposite side of the river. There's spiders lurking close, but they will stick to the trees. The orcs know this. That's why they walk the river bank. Spiders will not go close to the water. The leader of the orc company is said to have a metal plate covering half of his head, a large scar running from his temple to his jaw, and dressed in a bear skins. I want him brought to me … breathing. The only reason you kill him is to keep from being killed yourself, otherwise keep him alive. Any questions?" Legolas paused and looked around. Then his eyes fell upon me. "Captain, since you are new to this hunt, you'll partner with me."

I nodded in acknowledgement, but I wished I could have refused. I didn't think it was a good idea to be his partner. There was too much awkwardness between us.

"Good," Legolas replied. "Let's head out. They should only be about a day ahead of us, and they are traveling slowly. We'll double our pace and hopefully catch up to them by midday tomorrow."

I looked around me, and no one seemed concerned that we were leaving for a few days to hunt these orcs. No horses and minimal supplies, this was not regulation, as least it wouldn't be in Lothlórien. But these were Wood elves. They lived off the land, and made do with what they had.

Everyone teamed up with their partner and we headed out on our journey. Legolas let everyone pass him as he waited for me. Then we fell into step, side by side, silent as we marched on. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know why I even accepted this invitation, except that I thought it would be rude to refuse the Prince's offer.

"Ever been on a hunt before?" Legolas asked me after we fell far enough behind the others.

"Deer, wild boar, rabbit, elk," I answered, keeping my pace steady beside him, and my eyes straight ahead.

"Have you never hunted orcs before?" He seemed surprised by this.

"In Lothlórien, we don't hunt them. We go to war with them."

"You don't know what you've been missing. Hunting orcs is a great pastime," he said as though it was a game, and I said as much.

"We do not set out for our borders and attack the enemy for sport," I said, offended. "No one really wants to be there, but we go because it is our duty to protect our realm and its people, as well as the Lord and Lady of Light."

"I keep telling you, Captain, things are different here in Mirkwood. Different rules apply, sometimes no rules. Spiders are just mindless creatures. Not much fun in killing them, except that another dead spider is one less tomorrow. But orcs, they have minds. They think for themselves. They are survivalists, and they understand how the game is played. Now, the leader we are trying to capture . . ."

He went on with tactics and their plans for capture, but all I could think of was . . .

"How are you able to completely ignore what happened between us on the practice grounds," I blurted out. It had been bothering me ever since we started out.

Legolas shrugged his shoulders. "I made a move. You punched me. I tried to explain the reasons for my actions. You told me you loved another. Now I've moved on. You are obviously not interested."

"No, that's not it," I said frustrated.

"So you are interested," he said sounding hopeful.

"No, I … it's just–"

"Rúmil, you really are a very confusing ellon."

"My point is … how can you be so nonchalant about all of this?" I asked with a raised voice.

We stopped walking and the rest of the group disappeared up ahead. When it seemed we were alone, Legolas became serious as he captured my eyes. "It is really very simple. I am extremely attracted to you, Rúmil. I've flirted, and I've made some bold moves, but you have rejected me at every turn. Now, in Lothlórien, you might have the luxury of courtship, or mindless flirting, or whatever you want to call it. But here in Mirkwood, we act fast, we say what is on our minds, and we take immediate action in order to accomplish a goal. There is no time to waste when your whole life feels as though you are living on the run. I figured it would take a little more coaxing to get you going, but when you told me you were in love with someone, I knew I had to back off. I would never come between–"

"I said I used to be in love with someone. We are not together any more. He's gone away," I explained.

"But … you still love him." It was not a question as much as it was a statement.

"I will always have a place in my heart reserved for him."

"Then there must still be a chance that you will be together again one day."

I started walking again, afraid that we would fall too far behind, which meant someone would come back for us, and this was a conversation I didn't want to have with half of Mirkwood. No doubt, word spread through the palace like a bee flitting from flower to flower. "There is always a chance. There's a chance the sun will not rise tomorrow. It doesn't mean it will happen in my lifetime."

Legolas caught up to me, but he didn't say anything for the next several paces. I could feel that he had more questions for me, and eventually, he spoke. "So, this ellon you love … sorry, loved … where is he now?"

I shrugged and shook my head. "I don't know. He could be anywhere, I suppose."

"Why did he leave?" Legolas asked. He seemed genuinely concerned.

"He had no choice in the matter," I said solemnly.

"It's the army again, isn't it?" He gasped mocking surprise. "Why, Captain, did you get caught with your lover? Oh my! The blasphemy of it all!"

"You're a real arse, you know that," I said angrily. "I don't know why I'm telling you this anyways, but just to set things straight, I was not caught, and it is a long story … one in which I will not bother sharing with an insensitive prick." I marched off ahead of him, but his long legs allowed him to catch me in just a few strides.

"I'm sorry, Rúmil. I meant no disrespect. I just find it hard to understand your army rules. To me, they seem ridiculous, and I wonder why someone like you would want to be a part of something so restricting."

"I do it because I love being a soldier. That's it. It's simple."

"If it was simple, you'd be a soldier and still have your lover. But instead, you had to send him away," Legolas noted.

"That was a sacrifice I had to make."

His eyes drilled into me, searching for the truth. I was good at hiding my true feelings, and he was good at extracting them. "It's not one that I'd be willing to make."

"Yet you sacrifice yourself by letting your father keep you hidden away for fear of losing his only heir. That is something I could never do," I pointed out. I'd hit a raw nerve. Legolas turned his head back straight, glaring down the path.

"You know nothing of it," he said trying to distance himself from me.

I had the advantage, finally, and I felt the power shift to my side. "I know I wouldn't let someone restrain me or hide me away like a treasure."

Legolas stopped and rounded on me. "Do you think I like this? Do you think I like sitting underground while my friends run out to meet the enemy?"

"No, I don't. I know that you want to be out there every time, because it is in your soul. But I don't think you fight hard enough. Thranduil is a king to his people, but you are his son. If anyone can make him listen to reason, it is his own flesh and blood. But you are afraid of him."

"I am not," Legolas seethed.

"Of course you are. Otherwise, why would you be here now, heading into danger? It's easy to defy your father when he's not here."

Legolas snorted a disturbing laugh. "You think I've snuck out without my father's consent." He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "My father sent me on this mission."

"What?" I said confused.

"Who do you think spotted the orcs and sent word to the palace? The King returns today."

I was livid at this point, and I had to force myself not to stick him with my arrow. "Thranduil is returning and no one told me? Then why did you ask me to come along on this excursion when you know damn well how important it is for me to speak with him?"

"Because you are not ready to speak with him yet!" Legolas yelled. His jaw was set as he clenched his teeth, and his savage eyes turned to slits. He looked as though he was deciding whether or not to cut my head from my shoulders. Finally, he released me from his murderous stare, turned away and shook his head in disappointment. "Perhaps I made a mistake by trusting your brother."

"Haldir? Wait. What has my brother got to do with this?" I was completely clueless, but leave it to Haldir to involve me in something that I had no idea I was involved in.

"Come on. We need to catch up to the others. I'll tell you along the way."

I planted my feet solidly on the path. "You will tell me now or I'll go back to the caves alone."

Legolas sighed deep and gave in to my demand. "Alright. Your brother, Haldir, has been coming to Mirkwood to slowly build trust with my father."

"That is no secret," I said skeptically. "Go on."

"He has not been doing it for Lothlórien alone. There are many of us who want to join Lothlórien in their efforts to tear down Dol Guldur. But my father is a very … very stubborn elf. He says it is our duty to protect our kingdom in the north, and if Lórien wants to attack Dol Guldur, then it's their own responsibility since they are closer neighbors than Mirkwood. Haldir has been trying to convince my father that a shared effort will mean a better chance at victory, and he was doing a good job of it too. That is, until a most unfortunate thing happened." At this point, Legolas started walking up the path. I had no choice but to follow. He had me hooked at every word. "During Haldir's last visit, Mirkwood had an unexpected guest. Do you know Mithrandir, the grey wizard?"

"I've never met him personally, but he has come to Lothlórien many times to visit the Lady Galadriel." I said.

"Well, he does not visit Mirkwood often, and it was rather a shock to see him at our gates. He was not alone. He brought with him a prisoner."

"An orc?" I asked, and I thought about this hunt we were on.

"No, not an orc. Not a member of any species, really. I'm not sure myself what kind of creature it was, but it was pitiful and lonely, and frightened of elves more than orcs."

"What did the wizard want with it?" I asked.

"He said he'd captured it, and that it held a wealth of information. He said that the enemy could not get their hands on it, and that's why he brought the creature to Mirkwood. Mithrandir brought it to us to protect it, not to imprison it. It had done no one any harm, but by being here, it put Mirkwood in even more danger than we were already in."

"Then why did King Thranduil allow it here?" I wondered.

"As I said, your brother was visiting at the time. He approached my father and helped to convince him to allow the wizard's request. The creature was put in a cell. Mithrandir left, but said that he would come back for the creature when it was time. My father remained suspicious, but because of the trust he'd built with Haldir, he was put a bit at ease with his decision. And I was put in charge of seeing over the prisoner."

"But–" I said, drawing the word out.

Legolas bowed his head until his chin rested on his chest. "It was all my fault. Mithrandir warned us not to believe a word the creature said. This … thing … it cried every night and sobbed every day. It said it was dying beneath the earth. All it wanted was to see the stars. I took pity on it. I couldn't help myself. As I said, we were protecting it, and it seemed unfair to keep it locked away all the time when it hadn't committed any crimes against anyone. And so, on a moonless night when the stars were at their peak of brilliance, I ordered the guards to let the creature out to breathe the fresh air and gaze upon his desire. They took it outside, but they were careful to let it loose in a glade where there was only a single tree. The creature climbed the tree, saying it only wanted to be closer to the stars. But when it was time to take it back to the cells, it wouldn't come down. My guards tried everything short of shooting it with an arrow to get it out of that tree. They were distracted and didn't hear the orcs approaching. My men were outnumbered. They were slaughtered. The tree was cut down, and the creature was stolen from us. When my father found out, he was livid. He blamed Haldir for talking him into it. He blamed me for the kidnapping, and he said he would never trust another Lórien elf for as long as he remained on this earth. Haldir left immediately, and I was told I could not participate in hunts or battles."

"But he is allowing you on this one. Why?" I was enthralled by this story and my brother's involvement, but I wondered why I was here.

"He knows when it comes to a hunt and capturing an enemy, there is no one better. And I convinced him to let me prove myself to him once again. The orc leading this company up river was there the night that the creature was stolen. That's why we need to interrogate him. We need to make things right with the wizard, and we can do that if we can find out where the enemy took the prisoner."

"That all makes sense, Legolas, but one thing does not. Why am I here if your father wants nothing to do with Lothlórien, especially since I am the brother of the elf he considers the reason for his problems." I was finally getting to the bottom of this, and I knew Haldir still had a hand in helping the Mirkwood elves who did not agree with their king.

Legolas smiled at me, his blue eyes cutting to my soul. "That's what I like about you, Rúmil. Always thinking ahead. Nothing gets past you, does it? Do you know how alluring–"

"Out with it," I demanded. This was no time for his seductions.

"My father doesn't know you are here. I intercepted the letter of request sent from Lothlórien and answered it, allowing you to come. I had it all planned out perfectly. You would arrive while my father was out performing his duties, and that would give me time to figure out what to do next."

I was dumbfounded. I stood there, staring at Legolas, unable to find my voice for a moment. I didn't know whether to punch him again for involving me in his schemes, or to swive him for not being the spoiled heir of a sovereign I thought he was, and actually having a pair of bollocks when it came to defying his father. "Wait, you said you needed to figure out what to do next?"

"There was no time to make any plans further than getting you to Mirkwood. The orc party had been spotted before, but our scouts lost track of them. It was pure luck that my father saw them. Now, we have to think of a way to involve you in this hunt that will force my father to give you an audience with him. Haldir said you had a way with words, and if there was anyone that could convince my father to join in this war, it would be you."

"Me? I'm not a negotiator. I can hardly talk a kitchen maid into giving me an extra sweet roll, let alone talk your father into fighting a war with Lothlórien," I countered. What in the name of Eru did Haldir think he was doing?

Legolas smiled fiendishly and came close to me. "Oh, I don't know about that. If it was me in the kitchen, I'd give you more than a sweet roll."

There was that seductive voice again. I tried not to let it affect me, but there are parts of the male anatomy that have a mind of their own. "Will you be serious for a moment? I'm afraid Haldir has misled you. There is another reason why he sent me here, and it's not to join you in this scheme against your father, who … by the way … could have my head put on a stake," I argued. "I'm only a messenger in all of this."

Legolas seemed disappointed in my reaction. He must have thought I was here on my own accord. He hadn't known the real reason I was sent here, which was to get away from my own interrogation and Raenor, who was still on a witch hunt over the whole Túron and Romon scandal.

His face softened. He looked desperate at this point, though he tried to hide it. "Will you help us or not, Rúmil? I believe that if Mirkwood joins Lothlórien and storms Dol Guldur, we could actually take back the Rhovanion and extinguish the black creatures. And I'm not alone in this. There are enough Wood elves who believe this, and who would join the cause if it meant living out from under the threat of darkness." He was pleading with me. He looked so vulnerable that I found it difficult to resist.

After some thought, I finally answered. "I will help you capture this orc. I will even help you interrogate him. I have no choice but to come back to the palace with you. It will be out of my hands at that point. If your father sends me away without allowing me an audience with him, then I must abide by his rule. He is king here, not you. If tensions are high between Lothlórien and Mirkwood, I will not do anything to make them any tenser than they already are. That is the best I can offer you."

"Then we'll just have to make sure my father will let you speak. Now, let's go hunt an orc."

* * *

><p>We found the orc party, and we captured their leader. The rest were killed and left to rot. The leader was interrogated and … well, unfortunately for him the information had to be forced out. Legolas handled that part of things. For the first time, I saw the genuine savagery of the Wood elves. Revenge was good motivator. After all, it had been Legolas' own men who died that day when the creature was taken, and this orc had been responsible for the crimes.<p>

Now we had arrived at the palace, and I had never been so nervous. I hid it well. It was not like me to show my true emotions when in a professional setting. Today I would speak with the King, or at least I hoped it would be today. I had my own war to fight back in Lothlórien, and I knew they needed every able bodied elf.

Legolas and I, and the entire hunting party, entered the King's hall, the center of this Wood elf operation. A stone bridge was all that separated us from King Thranduil. His throne sat upon a dais of rock, high in the center of the main cavern. I gazed across the distance to the regal elf, dressed in forest green robes, gilded edges sparkling in the light. Upon his golden head sat a mithril circlet dotted with jewels, rubies, emeralds and sapphires, I supposed. He was the last of the elven kings, and he radiated a sense of superiority and self-importance that no other leader possessed. It suddenly dawned on me, the significance of Legolas' role in all of this. The same royal blood coursed through his veins, and I had felt that blood pulsing just below the ivory skin as he touched my own. Legolas was not just another Wood elf, as I had let myself believe. He was the son of the most important person in this extravagant room. He could very well be sitting upon this same throne one day.

"I was not made aware that we had a visitor," Thranduil's voiced boomed from the throne.

"I allowed it, Your Grace, while you were away and I was temporary ruler in your stead," Legolas spoke from my side.

Thranduil moved to the edge of his throne and studied me from across the stone walkway. "I can see by your clothes that you are from Lothlórien. Who are you?"

"I am Rúmil, Captain of the Northern Border Guard," I announced with pride.

Thranduil observed me carefully before he went on. "Your brother is Haldir, Marchwarden of the North."

"He is, Your Grace. He has sent me here to speak with you about–"

"I have nothing to say to you, just as I had nothing to say to your brother," Thranduil commanded. He slid back comfortably in his chair, hands resting on the wooden arms shaped like twisted branches. I could see the gleam of many jeweled rings, one on each finger. He wore his wealth with pride.

"You have a very beautiful home, Your Grace," I said.

"Thank you," Thranduil replied.

"You've gone to great lengths to protect it, as well as your people," I spoke again.

"I have and I still do. Now, if you'll please take your leave and–"

"Pardon my boldness, Your Grace, but I am sure you would like to keep your people safe for as long as possible."

"My people are well protected and will remain that way until–"

"Until Dol Guldur regurgitates its massive army and they march north, here, to Mirkwood."

Thranduil's thick dark brows came together with a deep furrowing. "You dare to interrupt me when I'm speaking?"

"I have new information about our enemy that you should be made aware of."

"I highly doubt there is anything you could tell me that I do not already know. Nothing you can say will persuade me to fight for Lothlórien. That is the reason your brother sent you, is it not?" Thranduil said with impatience.

"He said you will not heed his advice anymore, and he chose me to carry the message instead."

"You could send a talking rabbit here to speak with me on such matters, but if it came from Lothlórien, its advice would still fall on deaf ears," the King scolded.

"Father," Legolas called across the way. "I think you should listen to Captain Rúmil. Hear what it is he has to say. At least let us approach the throne so we don't have to shout."

Thranduil ignored his son's plea. "Did you receive my message about the orc party?"

I heard Legolas sigh next to me. Obviously, he knew there was no way to force anything on his father. The Prince would submit for now. "Yes, and they have been dealt with. Their leader was interrogated, and there is new information."

"Come then," Thranduil called, waving his son across the bridge. "Tell me this news."

"I'm … afraid I do not have it," Legolas said cautiously.

"You said you interrogated him, so what did he tell you?" Thranduil asked. I could hear the anger beginning to rise in his tone.

"The orc did not tell me anything," Legolas informed. "I was the hand that forced him to speak, but it was not my ear that his words fell upon."

Thranduil was growing impatient, and he was starting to see what Legolas was up to. "Then who knows what he said?"

"The orc would only talk to Captain Rúmil, since he was the only one of our hunting party that was not there the night of the situation," Legolas said.

"And what was the Lothlórien soldier doing accompanying you on a hunt?"

"I invited him. Captain Rúmil is leader to their archery regiment. He's very good with a bow, and I … thought he might enjoy a bit of hunting."

Thranduil glared at his son. "What kind of trickery is this, Legolas?" Each word was carefully pronounced and tinged with danger.

"It is no trick, Father, but if you want to know what the orc said, you'll have to ask the Captain. He is the only one who knows."

This had been our plan all along. Legolas knew his father would never allow me to speak with him, and we needed a way to guarantee he would. So, once we killed the orc party and tortured the leader until he was ready to talk, Legolas and the others left me alone with him. Legolas told me what questions to ask once I was alone with the orc. The poor creature told me everything he knew, in order to keep Legolas from coming back and torturing him some more. And Legolas was true to his word. He didn't torture the orc after that. He put him out of his misery, and ours … a swift death. When it was all said and done, I was the only one who knew the answers to the questions, and if Thranduil wanted to know, he would only hear it from me.

"Now," Legolas said. "May we approach?"

Thranduil looked livid. I thought that the only reason I was still breathing was because of the information I held. The King would not look at me, but Legolas seemed to be taking the brunt of the King's deadly stare. There was nothing more frightening than cornering an angry Wood elf.

"You are my son," Thranduil finally said, an eerie calm coating his words. "You are never denied my attention."

"And Captain Rúmil?" Legolas asked. I almost wished he would have let me stay where I was.

"Bring your talking rabbit, then," Thranduil answered. He stood from his chair and turned, his green robes snapping in the air. That's when I noticed that there was a door behind the dais. Thranduil walked to the door and disappeared inside, his marvelous cloak chasing behind.

Before we crossed the bridge that led to the chamber, Legolas looked at me, one brow raised in mischief. "Ready to face the bull?"

"As I'll ever be," I said, but I wasn't sure this was going to work. Thranduil would want the information first. I had to convince him to hear me out before I would release anything the orc told me. The battle was not over yet.

Once inside the chamber, I realized that I'd been here before. When Legolas first gave me a tour of the palace, this had been one of the places he showed me, but we had come in from another way. There was no mistaking the bear rug or the tapestries covering the walls. This was the King's private audience chamber.

Thranduil went to a shelf and picked up a decanter of wine. He poured himself a glass, but he did not offer any to me or Legolas. I was receiving his message clearly. Thranduil would only tolerate me until he got what he wanted. After that, he'd be done with me. I had to keep that from happening.

Legolas and I stood side by side as we waited for Thranduil to speak. The King had his back to us as he poured the wine, and then finished half the glass in only a few swallows. He set the cup down rather hard and spun on his heel. Thranduil was flawlessly handsome for someone so intimidating. I could see the likeness between father and son, their hair, their eyes, and it was obvious in the face as well as the way they carried themselves. They could be friend or foe, my greatest ally or my worst enemy, and they could flip as quickly as a coin. But the one great difference that I had only recently come to know was that Legolas' opinion of fighting the war was opposite of his father's views, and I needed Legolas on my side.

"Captain Rúmil, perhaps you will tell me how much you know about a prisoner that we held here," Thranduil said.

"He knows everything," Legolas answered for me. "I had to tell him about the creature and the kidnapping so that he would know what questions to ask."

"I see," Thranduil said cynically. "And does he know that it was your fault that the prisoner was taken from us? Does he know that you disobeyed an order, and let the creature out because you … felt sorry for it?"

I could sense Legolas' embarrassment, and I intervened. "Legolas has told me everything, and I have to add that I might have done the same thing had I been in your son's position."

"Then you would be just as much a fool," Thranduil said with disappointment. "Mithrandir entrusted the Wood elves with this charge. The creature was not ours to decide what to do with. We were only to keep watch, to keep him out of the enemy's grasp."

Legolas took a step towards his father, a pleading look upon his beautiful face. "How many times must I say I'm sorry? How many times must I agree that it was my fault? I lost some of my best men that night. I'll live with the guilt of my decision for the rest of my days. Isn't that punishment enough, Father?"

Thranduil looked upon his son with concern. I thought that deep down, he wanted to forgive Legolas, but he was the King, and he had to make an example. "And I have to live with the fact that it was my own son who made that poor decision."

"Your son has done a good thing to make up for his mistakes," I interrupted. "By your command, he found the orc party, captured the leader and had him interrogated."

"A good thing? Really? He let an elf of Lórien question a captive. He let you ask the questions … alone. And now he's expecting me to beg a Lórien elf to give me the information," Thranduil seethed.

"I would never disrespect the elven king by making him grovel. All I ask is that, in return for this information, you hear me out, listen to Lothlórien's warning, and give serious consideration to their pleas," I said.

"And I suppose I have to hear what you have to say before you will trade this information," Thranduil said unimpressed. "Very well, tell me." He seemed very uninterested.

"Your Grace," I began. "It is about Dol Guldur and our findings."

"Of course it is. Everything Lothlórien tries to get me involved it has to do with that place."

"A place that was once home to your people," I reminded him.

"My father's people, you mean. And most of them have sailed or perished in war. My father, King Oropher, took us to the safety of the north because he knew what troubles lay ahead in the southern regions of the Rhovanion."

"And that was the best thing to do at the time. But over the years, the abandoned places have gone unchecked," I argued.

"Yes, and the Necromancer settled in Dol Guldur. As far as I know, it was Mithrandir and your Lady of Light who abolished him from the broken tower. That place is nothing more than a gathering place for the orc troops." Thranduil seemed very sure of himself, but I was not going to let him win this one.

"It is more than a gathering place. Orcs are breeding there, growing their armies, and once they have enough, they will march on Lothlórien and Mirkwood."

"This is nothing new to my ears, Captain Rúmil. But the way I see things, Lothlórien is closest to the danger, and it should be their responsibility to keep watch over any activity and to strike when necessary. I have enough to worry about with the spiders. Any orcs that happen along here are severely out of place, and as you saw for yourself, they are dealt with immediately."

"Your Grace," I stated with a raised voice. "There is more in Dol Guldur than orcs. The Nazgûl now inhabit that place, and they are responsible for organizing Sauron's armies."

"The Nazgûl?" Thranduil said in a shocked whisper. "So, Sauron has initiated his Black Captains."

"It is Lothlórien's belief that they will march soon. They will spread like a plague across the Rhovanion towards my home and yours, and by then it will be too late to stop them. If we go now, to Dol Guldur, and attack them before they are at full capacity, they can be defeated, but it will take both of us to do this."

Thranduil went back to the decanter of wine and refilled his glass. He sipped slowly, his mind turning over this new information as he considered what to do. He glanced over his shoulder to his son. "And what are your thoughts in all of this."

"I have always thought we have not done enough, but now is our opportunity to put an end to it all," Legolas answered passionately.

"You have always been too eager, just like your grandfather," Thranduil said. "You want to rush in, get blood on your knives, but you have not considered what that will mean for the men who will be slaughtered. I've seen it once already, Legolas. I will not watch it again."

"Oropher rushed into a battle that–"

"I am not speaking of Oropher," Thranduil said in a threatening tone. I saw some kind of exchange between father and son, something unspoken that only they knew about.

Legolas took a deep breath to clear his mind and bring things back to the matter at hand. "We will be ready, Father, especially if we fight alongside Lothlórien," Legolas argued the point in a cool demeanor. "There are more than you know who believe in this strategy, who want to fight. They want to go out and meet the enemy, not sit here and wait for them to come to us. By then it will be too late."

I could see that Thranduil was becoming irritated. His shoulders drew back as he lifted his head. Even with his back turned to us, he was still menacing. Everything hung on his word, and I would have an answer before I left Mirkwood.

"I've listened to what you have to say. Now, tell me what the orc revealed about the prisoner they took from us." He ignored everything Legolas had just told him.

I looked at Legolas nervously, but he gave a confident smile and a nod. Before we came to Thranduil, we had devised a plan, which we achieved so far, but we also had a side plan that would insure I'd have an answer before my departure. It was a risk and a huge move on my part, and I'm not sure I would even try it if it wasn't for Legolas' support. I was about to find out how well he knew his father and his wrath, for this would make him very angry indeed.

"Before I do, I'd like to know why it is so important to you. Why is it any concern of yours anymore?" I asked boldly. There was no room for nervousness now. I could not show the slightest sign of fear, or I could not corner Thranduil.

Thranduil considered my question for a moment. "The prisoner, Gollum was his name, he'd been within Mirkwood, within the palace. Now the orcs have him, and I fear he will tell them what he's seen. I fear they might be looking for a way in." He spoke to himself as he justified his answer. "I should have known better than to allow Mithrandir to talk me into helping him. He put us all in danger."

"They do not care about Mirkwood," I said. "Not as far as the creature is concerned."

Thranduil was not happy about my inquisition, and I could tell he was getting fed up with me. "Gollum was under my watch and my care when he was taken, and as a symbol of good faith I should have answers for the wizard when he returns for the prisoner and finds he's not here."

I watched the King carefully. I'd learned a thing or two about body language, and how to detect when someone was not telling the whole truth. I noticed that Thranduil rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, giving himself away as he tried to steer me away from the real reason. I realized that while Gollum was imprisoned in Mirkwood, Thranduil would have had ample opportunity to interrogate him and find out why a wizard wanted him just as much as the enemy did. "Could it be that you already know why the orcs wanted him?" I dared to ask.

Thranduil very calmly walked to his desk, and placed both palms flat on the wood grain. He bowed his head, remaining still and quiet. I thought that I might have taken the advantage in our game, and I glanced at Legolas to see his reaction. But before my eyes even had time to see my abettor, the silence was violently broken by Thranduil's fist slamming onto the desk. His head slowly came up, his ice blue eyes glaring at me through his thick dark brows. "We had an agreement, Captain. I listened to your pleas, now just tell me what I wish to know."

"You have not given me an answer yet, Your Grace. Do so, and I shall tell you everything the orc admitted to," I said coolly.

"You do not fool me. If I say no to joining you on some suicide mission, you'll not tell me a damn thing."

"That's not true, but if you say no, you might change your mind after hearing what happened to the prisoner," I argued.

Thranduil knew he was trapped. He couldn't let me leave without knowing what I had to tell him, and I could not leave without an answer. We had come to a stalemate and one of us would have to fold first. So he offered me a truce and I accepted.

"Will you at least tell me where they took him?" Thranduil asked softly.

I paused and waited until the King looked me in the eyes, and when he did I answered. "Dol Guldur."

His shoulders slumped as he looked down at his desk. This was the one place that Thranduil had wanted to avoid, and the focus of Lothlórien's next move.

"Why do you want the prisoner, Father?" Legolas asked. "What do you know?"

Thranduil scowled at his son. "Why don't you ask your Lórien friend? He seems to know everything. Maybe you can drag it out of him." Thranduil brought himself up to his full intimidating height, and looked at me with rage dancing behind the ice blue eyes. "I need time to consider your plea for help. You'll have an answer come morning. One more day in Mirkwood will not hurt your campaign. Now go, both of you."

"I wish to stay and speak with you," Legolas said.

"Go," Thranduil said without hesitation. Legolas started to take a step forward to confront his father, but I put my hand on his arm to stop him. I could see by the look on his face, he just wanted to know what his father was thinking, but Thranduil wanted to be alone to think. Not even his own son could sway him in this decision.

Legolas gave in and abandoned his thoughts for the moment. We left Thranduil's audience chamber, and crossed over the stone archway. Legolas seemed restless, and my nerves were rattled to the core after all that. The Prince took a deep breath and looked at me. "You seem to have come out on top," he said.

"Ahead of the game, but not unscathed. Your father is unreasonable and stubborn, and I somehow managed escape without ending up in your prison cells."

Legolas smiled and gave a huff of a laugh. "Well, there's nothing else to do for today. Let's go unravel those nerves."

"Do you have a tavern hidden away in one of these dark corridors?" I asked jokingly. Actually, I could use a strong drink at the moment.

"Not what I was thinking, but I'll have wine sent."

"Sent where?" I wondered.

"To the hot springs, of course."

"You have hot springs in Mirkwood?" I asked surprised.

"Better. They are within the palace. My father struck a deal with the dwarves long ago. They tapped into a natural source and built custom baths where the water remains at a constant tantalizing temperature."

"You really do have everything under this hill, don't you?"

Legolas smiled infectiously. "Come on. Time to relax after our harsh trials."


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

There really was a natural hot spring beneath the hill that Legolas called home … this palace underground. The Prince led me through another confusing series of corridors and walkways until we came to a place that looked like a cave. While the other parts of the palace had smooth walls and floors with luxurious rugs, plush seats and tables with gold inlay, the bath house, as Legolas referred to it, was left looking unfinished, with rough stone walls and rock benches carved into those walls. In the center of the room was a large pool with steam rising from its dark waters. The air smelled like minerals and wet earth, very much like a cave.

"This used to be solid rock. The dwarves came in, chipping and hammering away, day and night, until they made this room. Then they tapped into the water source feeding the pool that they built with the naturally heated water. It flows in from the center of the pool, and exits at the far end," Legolas informed.

"An ingenious design as I've ever witnessed," I said, utterly in awe.

"All are welcome here any time they like. I come here to think or to unwind after a good hunt," he said, walking to one of the stone benches. He sat down and started taking off his boots. I stood to the side and continued to admire the handiwork of dwarves. "Haven't you any bath houses in Lothlórien?" Legolas asked.

I glanced at him, and found that he was now stripping himself of his clothes. I looked away quickly. "We have hot springs, but they've been there since the earth was made. And they are not as private as this." I heard the rustling of leather and silk, as Legolas continued undressing.

"I wouldn't have thought of you being bashful," Legolas said, and now I heard the swirling of water as he made his way into the pool.

"Just … respecting your privacy," I answered uncomfortably.

"You may look now," he called.

I turned and found him waist deep in the center of the pool. The water covered him low on his hips, and I noticed the trail of blond fuzz leading from his bellybutton and lower. Some elves had this trait and some did not. I myself didn't, but I found it to be an enticing feature to the male body. Before I thought about where that trail led, I cleared my throat and walked to one of the stone benches.

"Do I make you nervous?" Legolas asked, the sultriness returned to his voice. "Surely you don't bathe in your clothes in Lothlórien."

I laughed with an acute uneasiness. "Of course not. It's just that … well … I barely know you. In Lothlórien, we have trained together, eaten together, fought together, and yes bathed together, but we know each other like brothers."

"Then here, let me make you more comfortable." Legolas sunk lower into the water and turned his back to me. "Better?"

"Somewhat," I said. I saw no way out of this, and more than anything I wanted to lose my anxiety to the warm water. So I undressed, and kept a close eye on Legolas in case he tried to execute some kind of foolery. He didn't, and remained with his back turned until I notified him. The water was very hot, almost to the point that I could not stand it, and I sucked a sharp breath in between my clenched teeth.

Legolas laughed low in his throat. "You'll get used to it once you are submerged."

My skin tingled from the heat, but soon I began to adjust to the temperature. "By the gods, this feels wonderful," I sighed.

"My favorite place to be," he said, and he disappeared beneath the water. I watched him glide across the pool, and come up for air close to where I was. He looked like a river imp with his hair wet and slicked back, ivory skin glistening with water, and blue eyes alive with mischief. He smiled at me. "You should try it. Let the water cover every inch of your body."

"Oh, well … I … haven't taken out my braids," I said as an excuse.

"Here, let me help you." He waded over to me, his long fingers reaching for the braids at my temples. He was gentle as he untwisted my hair, taking his time, and let his fingertips brush along the edge of my ear. He moved to the other side and repeated the process. "There," he said when he was finished.

A wine servant entered the room, carrying a tray with a carafe, goblets, and a few edibles. Legolas told her to leave it at the edge of the pool. When we were alone again, he approached the tray and poured, handing me a cup. "Dorwinion wine. Best you'll ever taste, but be careful. It is quite potent."

I took a sip and was immediately rewarded with a delightful warmth that purled through my chest, settling in my stomach. Now I was warm from the inside out. "Delicious."

"Yes. Yes it is," Legolas said, but I didn't think he was talking about the wine.

I moved back against the side of the pool, and Legolas stayed beside me. He sipped his wine and set the cup down. Then he dipped his head below the water again. When he came up, he was staring intensely at me.

"So, what do you think your father will choose?" I said to break up the vehemently charged moment.

Legolas' arms came out of the water, spreading along the stone edge. I glanced at his chest, well defined like what was common for an archer. "Well," he started to answer. "I would say he would choose to do nothing, if it weren't for the fact that you know something that he does not. That was a brave move on your part, to accuse him of already having known something about the prisoner."

"I know he knows something. I just don't know what that something is. And I believe I hold the other half of the key to solving the mystery." I adjusted my position so that my shoulders sunk beneath the water. "Your father would do whatever he could if he knew there was a way to end the darkness."

"Wouldn't you?" Legolas asked defensively.

"Perhaps, but what he would do comes with a heavy price."

Legolas was silent, but I knew he wanted to know more than anything. The fact was, I knew why the enemy wanted Gollum. The creature knew things about the whereabouts of a weapon. In the hands of the enemy, it could destroy Middle-earth. But in the hands of Men, it could rule or ruin. It could still be very detrimental to the future of the free people of the world.

"You have sacrificed for a price. You know what it is like," he said. "You said it yourself, choosing the army over a lover. So you see, sometimes we will do what it takes to make sure there is a tomorrow."

"My choice to be a Captain is not a sacrifice. I do it because I want to, not because I have to. And he was more than a lover, if you must know." I don't know why I was telling him this, but he'd put me on the defensive.

Legolas took his arms down and moved a little closer to me. "He must have been very special. You speak with passion whenever the subject it brought up."

"He was special. He still is, to me anyways," I admitted.

"You've never spoken about him to anyone, have you?" Legolas asked.

"Who am I going to tell?"

"You can tell me. You're free to speak within Mirkwood," he reminded me. "What was his name?"

"Tu … Túron," I stammered. "He was from Rivendell."

"Ai, Imladris … very passionate elves come from that land. I once had a lover there," he reminisced.

"You have been to Rivendell?" I asked.

"A few times, but it was a very long time ago. You see, Lord Elrond was looking for someone who might make a good pairing for his daughter. My father thought it would be worthwhile to send me to Imladris. Imagine if the Prince of Mirkwood were to marry the daughter of Rivendell. It didn't pan out, of course."

"I take it you were not moved by her beauty?" I said, feeling more and more relaxed with every sip of wine.

"She is beyond beautiful. Even an elf like me found her difficult to resist. And then one evening, there was a special performance by the resident minstrel." Legolas sipped his wine, a dreamy look adorning his face. "He was gorgeous, auburn hair, beautiful green eyes, and a smile that took my breath away. I flirted with him all evening. It was shameless of me, I know, but I just couldn't help myself. Oh, the things we did to each other … hmm, gets me excited just thinking about it."

It was getting me excited imagining it too, but I regained myself quickly. "Would you have married her … that is, if your father and Lord Elrond insisted on it?"

"No, I couldn't have gone through with it, not even for our kingdoms. It would have been unfair to her."

"And not unfair to you?" I wondered.

He gave me a devious look. "As I said, there was a musician."

"Oh," I replied and thought of the story Haldir told me about Raenor's father.

"Why do you ask? Have you been in a similar situation?"

"No," I smiled. "No father ever insisted his daughter marry a soldier. But I have been to quite a few dances with an elleth upon my arm for the evening, and nothing ever led anywhere beyond the dance hall."

"So … you've never … with an elleth?" he hinted.

"Well, no," I said matter-of-factly. But the look in Legolas' eyes said he had had a different experience. "And you have?" I asked, my curiosity peaking at a new level.

"Let's just say that Lady Arwen would have been very satisfied, and so would I as long as I had a way to supplement my voracious appetite," he smirked. I wasn't sure why he was telling me this. Perhaps he was testing me to see whether it made a difference or not. I thought about the flirtatious conversation between Legolas and Corweth, back when I first arrived in Mirkwood and found myself in the healing rooms.

"But whatever side I find myself entertaining, I tend to devote my full attention," he added for good measure. In other words, I didn't have to worry about him flirting with me and then throwing himself onto the next elleth that walked by.

"How very … gracious … of you," I said facetiously.

He watched me over his glass as he sipped again. "You are very clever, Rúmil."

"How is that?" I asked.

"Every time I try to delve into your personal life, you manage to turn the conversation around onto me."

"I've had a lot of practice," I noted.

Legolas smiled and laughed quietly to himself. "There's that wit and charm that I find irresistible. Now, as you were saying about this lover from your past."

"There's not much to tell, really. We met, saw each other multiple times, helped one another, and then it was over." I thought the quick version was best for today.

"You make an uninteresting story," he said disappointed.

I got the feeling that he really wanted to know so he could understand me better. I think he was trying, but I was unwilling to budge. Perhaps it would do some good to tell a stranger about the things that happened and where my life went awry. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Túron was a scout and a spy, hired by my brother, Haldir, to keep an eye on certain elves who were trying to stir up trouble. When I became the focus of attention for these elves, Túron's motives turned to protecting me. Unbeknownst to both of us, feelings developed."

"I take it you did not know he was a spy?" Legolas questioned.

"No, not until much later, but by then we were … very close."

Legolas swam around me, coming up next to me. He reached for a cloth and used it to wipe the sweat from his brow. There was a second towel. This one he used on me, dabbing my neck and my face. Then he smiled and handed it to me. "So, when you found out, is that when things went sour?" he asked.

"I was not happy to know I'd been deceived, but I was willing to listen."

"That was noble of you," he said, and he sat next to me in the pool.

"I didn't get much of a chance, though. The elf I mentioned, the one causing the trouble, tried to set me up, to expose me for his own gain. Túron uncovered his plot at the last moment, and basically threw himself in front, taking the proverbial arrow for me. He was the one exposed, Túron and one of my best men. Once that kind of information is made public … well … I could not be seen with him any longer, for fear of my own secret being disclosed. And besides, his job was done. It was time for him to move on and look for work elsewhere." Talking about Túron, and bringing back all the things I'd tried so hard to bury for the past year did not make it any easier now. I needed more wine, and I moved from my spot, leaving Legolas where he was. While I poured, I heard the water swirl behind me.

"It sounds like you have gone through some difficult trials, and I'm sorry for your loss," he said.

"Thank you," I barely whispered, taking a hefty gulp of my drink.

"But at least you had him for a short while. It's better than to never have known what it was like to love."

"You sound as though you've never experienced it before," I noted.

"Well, when you live like we do here, with death always knocking at your door, it is difficult to find something real. Of course, there are other ways to fill the void. In that way, I think we are alike, Rúmil. Wouldn't you agree? You've loved and lost. I've never loved deeply. There is an emptiness that exists, is there not? And when it feels like the void has gotten too deep, that's when we must do something or we will fall in. At least, that's what it feels like to me. I'm standing on the edge of the abyss, and I can feel it pulling at me, telling me to jump, to give in." As he spoke, his hands moved to the back of my shoulders, massaging my stiff muscles, loosening the tension that was too often part of me. "But there is always someone there to pull me away, and keep me from going in."

"I know what you are saying, but I've managed to stay clear of the abyss," I said, trying to maintain my composure, but his ministrations were easing me into oblivion. "And you cannot leave to find happiness elsewhere, just as I cannot abandon Lothlórien or my position in the army."

"We stay because it is a part of us. We have a duty to others." His breath touched my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. "But we must also find release."

"Yes," I agreed, eyes closed, hanging on every satiny word he said.

He turned me around, and when I opened my eyes, he was gazing at me with stormy eyes. "How long has it been, Rúmil?" He moved towards me, close enough that I felt the heat of his skin. It was beginning to be too much, the warmth of the wine, the heat of the water, and now Legolas' closeness. I moved to the side of the pool and lifted myself out of the water so that I was sitting on the edge. The coolness of the air felt refreshing.

"It's been long, since the night he left Lothlórien," I answered.

"There's been no one since then?" Legolas asked, almost sounding shocked at this discovery.

"I … I haven't had much time to think about it. A couple days after Túron departed, I left for my first campaign as Captain, to patrol the borders. I was gone for almost a year, and when I came home, everything was … different. The whole fiasco that was the reason why Túron had to leave was still hanging over my head. The council wanted me for questioning again. There was another tour at the borders to consider, since activity was at an all-time high. I had men to prepare, and a witch hunt to avoid. I wasn't home long when Haldir sent me on this mission."

"Seems very stressful," he said, moving to join me at the side of the pool. He reached out and took a lock of my hair between his fingers.

"I'd rather be killing orcs, to tell you the truth." I was a little uncomfortable with his closeness, and me without any cover. I hadn't even given it a second thought when I moved from the water. Perhaps I was beginning to conform to the Wood elf way of being comfortable in one's own skin.

"Ah, now there's a sight I would love to see. Rúmil of Lothlórien, bow raised, arrow nocked, his eyes trained on his enemy. I meant what I said earlier. There is a fearlessness about you that is very alluring." He nudged my knees apart and stood between them. I felt the flesh and muscle of his toned body upon my skin.

"I guess you are right. After all, I was not afraid to punch you in the gut," I reminded him, trying to get a handle on my emotions.

He smiled and cocked his head to the side. "That's exactly what I mean. All you need is a little bit of freedom, and you turn completely wild, like a feral beast. Unleash those inhibitions, and who knows what might become of you."

He was so close now, and his words lured me in. By the gods, he was absolutely gorgeous. "I've never had the opportunity to do so."

"You do here, within Mirkwood. Be that untamed spirit. Let it all go. Set yourself loose to pursue the unknown. There is more to you than you've ever admitted to. It's time to abandon control of everything they've taught you in Lothlórien, and just … be." As he spoke, he leaned into me. We were face to face, and I didn't care about anything but tasting his lips again. "I want you, Rúmil," he whispered.

I knew he was waiting for me to make the first move, but I was still hesitant to initiate it. I didn't deny him either, when his patience ran thin, and he gave up waiting and grasped me behind the neck, pulling me to his lips. I went willingly, and submitted to his kiss. This time, I allowed it. I wasn't shocked by it. I moved with him, our lips sliding together, tongues caressing and tasting. He took more care to read me than he had at the practice fields. He would only take it another step further if I allowed it, and I gave my permission by pulling away from his lips, freeing them to move elsewhere. He smiled and a steamy gaze met my eyes before he moved down, tasting my neck and my shoulder. His hands slid down my arms, and his head dipped lower, tongue flicking over my chest. I threw my head back, and let him lead me into this blissful moment. Lower and lower he went, until his mouth found me, surrounded me, and sucked me in. It had been so long since anyone had touched me in that way, and what Legolas was doing was unbelievable. I couldn't hold back. I didn't want to. As a part of me tried to resist, my mind played tricks to convince me to let this moment happen, and suddenly I was imagining Túron. But it wasn't him. It was Legolas, and by the gods he was good. My body's reaction proved that fact. But I'd let Túron in, and I started to feel the guilt and the embarrassment leak into my thoughts. What was I doing here with a Wood elf, a race that had no morals, no control? I had told myself that I wouldn't be seduced, that I wouldn't be used, and I betrayed myself. Worst of all, I realized that I wanted this very much, and that I wanted Legolas. I was letting him control me, letting him prove that I wasn't any different from him when it came to sexual desire. Wasn't this supposed to involve emotions other than lecherousness? He was a stranger to me. He did not know my mind, but Valar help me, he knew my body, and for the moment that's all that mattered. But my internal struggle dominated my ability to let go, and I knew I would regret my next move.

I pushed him and he released me, looking up at me through those long dark lashes. His lips were red and swollen from his work. My body ached for release, but I had to regain control. I couldn't allow myself this unrestrained way of thinking. In Lothlórien, this would be my end if I behaved in such a rash manner. That's how it was. That's how it had always been. And I realized that I didn't know how to let go as Legolas wished me to do.

"You must stop. I … I can't," I pleaded, my breath still heavy.

He smiled deviously. "I don't believe you."

"No … you've tricked me. You've played with my mind," I accused, trying to justify my loss of control.

Legolas stood straight so that we were eye to eye again. "I didn't do anything that you didn't want done. Admit it, Rúmil. You want me just as much as I want you."

"No," I demanded. "I can't want you. I can't be with you. We are too different. You're the King's son, for Eru's sake. It's wrong."

"Does it feel wrong?" His fingers caught my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes.

"Y … yes," I stuttered, trying to convince myself, but doing a bad job of it.

Legolas looked down at my lap, licked his lips, smiled and rolled his eyes up to gaze at me. "Your cock would say otherwise." He moved back to give me some space and continued. "Do you think I would just fuck anyone who crossed my path? Do you think I'm some deviant who doesn't care where I shove my prick? If you do, then you misunderstand me, and I'm a little hurt by that."

"I don't know what to think of you. You play this game so well. You've made me think I could be like you."

"Do you really think all you are … all you can be is a soldier of Lothlórien who must obey all the rules, sacrifice happiness, sneak around in the shadows, and dream of a normal life someday? Rúmil, I want to set you free. I want you to know that it doesn't have to seem like such a dismal life. You have a right to be happy, to fall in love or lust, to have both if you so desire. When I met you, I sensed a tortured soul. But more than that, I was drawn to you. There's something unique about you, something you haven't discovered yet. You are beautiful, Rúmil, but your constraints dull your true nature."

"My constraints?" I asked, curiously.

"Yes, you're bound to your life in Lórien. Always do the right thing. Never show your love for another. Keep your true emotions hidden. Be careful who you open up to. How can you live like this and not be scarred? Well, we're all scarred. You have lost your lover, but you still live as though he will be back tomorrow."

"I live like this because I still have hope," I argued.

"Alright, and what if he came back? Then what?" he asked seriously.

I was silent. I didn't have an answer. What indeed. I knew Legolas was right. There could be no future for me, even if Túron were to come back. Yet, I felt a need to wait for him.

"Your silence is my answer," Legolas said, and he climbed out of the pool. He walked to the stone bench and dried himself with a towel. "Look, what I'm offering you is not a commitment or a promise. It's nothing but an escape, a chance for you to revisit what it is that makes you Rúmil. You are already tortured, that much I can see. It keeps you from your full potential. Release your ghosts, and live for today." He dressed, but he carried his boots and walked barefoot through the bath house. When he reached the door, he turned and smiled. "Now you know what I want and how I feel. I'll not force you to do anything you don't want to. You'll probably be leaving in the morning anyways. Take heed my words, Rúmil. You are so much more than what you've become. Live life to the fullest. You never know what tomorrow brings, especially now. Good night, Captain." With that, he bowed and left.

I sat there at the edge of the pool, my emotions swirling around like the water at my feet. How was it that a simple Wood elf knew more about me than I knew about myself? For almost a year, I'd survived on a lie. Túron was gone and he wouldn't be back, yet I went on thinking that it would all change. I would fight at the borders. The enemy would retreat, and with any luck, Túron would come back. I was a fool to think that. Legolas knew exactly what he was saying when he made me realize that even if Túron came back, it could never be. Sure, I tried to put him out of my mind, but I kept thinking that any moment … any day, I would look up and there he'd be. I was putting too much faith in this falsity, so much that I had been living in a fake world, biding my time for a day that would never come. This was no way to live.

So, what was I to do? Well, for starters, I would talk to the King in the morning, finish our conversation, force his answer, and leave. All of a sudden, going home didn't seem so welcoming. What was I going home to? I really didn't know this time. Another battle was probably taking place. My brother's would be at the borders, fighting for our home and our freedom. I couldn't join them. I'd have to wait for them to return. I would also have the council waiting for me to answer more questions about something that happened a year ago, long enough that it didn't matter anymore. Only Raenor would keep this scandal alive. At least he had something to look forward to. I would go home and find no family, no troops, no … love. I would return to my false life and carry on as I always had.

I looked at the carafe of wine. There was still a bit left. "Shame to let it go to waste," I said, and poured another glass, slipping back into the warm water. The heat surrounded my body, making me revisit the moment that had just played out here. Legolas' lips were so strong, just like him. He was so sure of himself. And he called me fearless? I couldn't see it, but obviously he saw something in me that peeked his curiosity. By the gods, I'd been engulfed in his mouth not long ago. I throbbed to life just thinking about it. And just as I was beginning to let myself go, I closed that door too. I started to berate myself for stopping him. It had been so long since anyone had paid me any attention. And he was so good. His tongue, his lips, the amount of pressure he used … ai, he knew exactly what he was doing. What harm would have come if I'd let him finish me? Yet, if I had, I wouldn't have learned the things he'd taught me about myself. And now, here I sat all alone.

I didn't have to be, I told myself. How many elves get to experience the attentions of a Prince? Nothing held Legolas back. He was free to be himself. All elves of Mirkwood were. I'd always wished to know what it was like to not have to hide. Legolas was telling me I could have that experience if I wished. Why didn't I? Because it was bred into me to behave like that. Again, he was completely right about my dedication to Lórien. I gave them my talent, my time, my very soul if it was needed, and in return I just had to pretend to be someone else.

Suddenly, I wanted to rebel. I wanted to be that beast Legolas said dwelled within me. Whether it was the wine or the residual lust of the previous moment, I didn't know. I didn't care. There was someone here that admired me, someone that wanted me, someone who saw my potential, and now I wished to show him everything. I was up and out of the pool before I knew what I was doing. I toweled off as quickly as I could and dressed.

My mind wasn't thinking straight as I left the bath house in pursuit of the Prince, and after a few twists and turns, I was lost. I thought I remembered the way, but I was mistaken. The corridors all looked the same to me. Now, I roamed aimlessly, hoping to find something that looked familiar. It dawned on me that even if I could find my way back to the main hall, I wouldn't know where to look for Legolas. I didn't know his schedule or his routine. I didn't even know where his private rooms were, having never been there before. I had missed my opportunity with the Prince. He was right there, I pushed him away, and now I couldn't find him. This was surely my last night in Mirkwood. I'd be gone in the morning. Well, I said to myself, if it was truly meant to be . . .

"Are you lost?" someone asked from behind. I turned and found an elleth carrying a stack of clean rags.

I smiled, embarrassed to admit it. "I'm afraid I've made a wrong turn somewhere. Could you point me . . ." Point me where? I could ask her where Legolas' room was. Would she tell me? Would she care? ". . . towards the guest quarters?" Damn it!

"Certainly," she replied cheerfully, glad to be able to help. "You can walk with me until we get to the healing hall. That's where I'm heading. From there, I'll tell you where to go."

"Thank you very much," I said, following her down the hallway.

"New to Mirkwood?" she asked, making small talk.

"It's my first visit. I've been here for a few weeks now, but I still don't know my way around."

"The palace was meant to be confusing to outsiders. Should there be an invasion–" she said sadly.

"Which I'm sure there will not be," I interrupted to comfort her. "I'm a guest of the Prince, and I've come to know him. I believe you are very secure within the palace, much more so than if you were above ground."

"You are from Lothlórien." she said. "I can tell by your dress."

"Yes, but I'll be leaving in the morning."

"Well, may the Valar watch over you so that you shall safely return to your home." By now we were somewhere familiar. I recognized the torch lit hall of the healing rooms. The elleth gave me directions to the guest quarters. I thanked her and was on my way.

It was a good distraction, meeting the elleth and discussing general things and commonalities. It gave me a chance to let the wine work its way out of my system. I realized I was about to make a mistake with the Prince. I was close to giving myself to him, throwing caution away and to 'just be', as he put it. Perhaps I wasn't ready to move on yet. As long as there was the slightest bit of hope within my heart, I wasn't sure I could give up my dream of having a normal life. If it was fated to be, I'd still be in the bath house, but I chose differently. Whether I regretted that decision or not … well, a part of me did regret it. A part of me saw a chance to experience something I'd never have in Lothlórien. Just once, I wish I could know what it was like not to hide, to live out there amongst everyone else, to not be judged or held accountable for who I was. Should I have let it play out with Legolas?

I'd made it back to the guest quarters and started to turn the corner where my room was located. "Damn it all," I whispered to myself, feeling the remorse for my hasty decision to turn him away. I should have just let things happen and then maybe . . .

"What took you so long? Got lost?" he said in that sexy voice with an irresistible smirk on his face.

Standing by my door was a sight that set every fiber of my being to flame. Legolas had his back to the wall, his head turned towards me, arms hanging at his sides and one foot propped up against the stone. He was still barefoot, I noticed … his boots sitting on the floor next to my door. His shirt was half way unbuttoned, and I could see his chest heaving as his breath quickened with anxiety. I didn't say a word. I just marched down that hall, which suddenly seemed a thousand leagues long. And when I reached him, I stared into those stormy blue eyes. This was my second chance, and I would not throw it away this time. I captured his lips, kissing him hard and long. His hands went to my waist, but I took them and raised them above his head, pinning him to the wall. I pushed my hips against his, and we felt each other's desire through our leggings. We were both ready, and not for a slow tender love session.

"I want you too, Legolas," I said, responding to what he'd admitted back in the bath house. I pulled him from the wall, kicked open my door and took him inside my room. Our hands were all over each other, grasping at fistfuls of fabric, undoing buttons and untying leather laces. Out of pure frustration, I ripped his shirt from his body. Legolas only smiled deviously and shucked the torn shirt from his shoulders. We left a trail of clothes from the door to the bed, and found ourselves completely naked by the time we got there. We didn't stop there, though. Legolas crawled onto the bed and I followed, straddling him, leaning down and kissing him desperately. There was no time for proper preparation. I wanted him fast and hard before I talked myself out of it again. There didn't seem to be much chance of that. I was too far gone, taken by the lust and this gorgeous creature writhing beneath me. He looked only slightly taken aback by my insistence and leadership of the situation. I think Legolas was used to being the one in control, and this was not usually the way he performed.

I spit into my hand a few times, and forced him onto his hands and knees, readying both of us with only my saliva. "You said you wanted the beast," I whispered from behind, sinking my teeth into his shoulder. "Careful what you wish for." With that, I plunged into him, burying myself, taking pleasure in his cry of surprise. He was mine now, to do with as I pleased, and he submitted without complaint.

We spoke no words, only cries of passion filled the air as we took turns throughout the night. Legolas finished what he started in the bath house, and then I showed him my gratitude on multiple levels. It was amazing how good we were together, moving like a dance, bringing each other to the brink, pulling back, and then when it was nearly impossible to wait any longer, the passion of our lust blazed brighter than the sun. We pushed one another to our breaking points, never going further than the other was willing to go. Legolas would go quite far, and it allowed me to learn new things about myself, giving me an opportunity to take new steps towards being free of my life long restraints.

I'd never felt so relaxed in all my life. I had no worries at all. No one would come looking for me. No one would interrupt my blissful moment. No one would walk in and find me in a compromising position, and even if they did, it wouldn't be my end. Maybe that was the reason why I pushed my limits with Legolas. He was a great teacher too, and I learned many things from him that night.

We were completely spent late into the night, and we fell to our slumber in my bed. I slept so sound, as I'd never rested before. The warmth of his body next to me was so comfortable. I loved the feel of his naked flesh against mine, and the fact that if I woke and wanted him, he would be ready. I know because I tried it once that evening. I dreamt of him, or rather, I revisited my memory of our previous session. He had fulfilled all my desires and expectations, my needs and my demands, and as a reward, I took him to new heights. We found ourselves unrestrained and peaked simultaneously. If it was possible to touch the stars, I think I might have been able to at that exact moment. As I woke from my dream, thinking of this, the desire to take him again was overpowering. With just a nip and a kiss, I stirred Legolas from his slumber and brought him standing so we could recreate the moment once again. There was no end to how high I could travel on this skyward path to ecstasy. I loved the control and to be controlled, but mostly, it was knowing that Legolas was not like this with just anyone. He'd been drawn to me specifically, for reasons I didn't know until now. But this was only temporary. Tomorrow, I would leave for home, back to my secret life, hiding my true identity from those who could use it against me, and from family who wouldn't understand. At least now, Haldir understood me, but I still couldn't talk to him about it. We were, after all, soldiers, and I didn't want to put any more strain on our relationship than was necessary.

"You're not sleeping," Legolas said groggily.

The sun was beginning to rise. I'm not sure how I knew except for the fact that I felt it in my bones. "I'll have to go soon. I have that … meeting … with your father," I said playfully.

"Yes, that irritatingly obnoxious meeting," he answered with a sleepy smile. He rolled onto his side, facing me as I lay looking at the ceiling. "And when you get your answer . . .?"

"I'll have to leave," I said trying not to sound regretful.

"Must you?" Unlike me, Legolas did not try to hide his disappointment.

"I have to get back to Lothlórien. We are at war. I have troops to lead, and strategies to organize. I've already been here far longer than I ever anticipated."

"And is that such a bad thing?" he said, his finger tracing a path down my chest, my stomach, and lower, dipping beneath the sheets.

"Well, maybe not now, not since you did that thing … with the thing," I smiled. He'd taken me in his hand and was working me most deliciously.

"So you liked it when I took my thing and your thing, and put that thing–"

"Yes," I laughed, rolling towards him and capturing his mouth with mine. I kissed him solidly, and then whispered against his lips. "I liked it all, Prince Legolas."

"Normally I don't like being called that, but there is something sexy about the way you say it."

Our naked bodies pressed together as we kissed and caressed. I didn't want to move from this spot, but I had to, and I pulled away from him. "You're going to have to get up first."

"Why?"

"Because I'm finding it extremely difficult to leave you here all alone in my nice warm bed." I pushed him into the mattress and stretched out on top of him. I really wasn't ready to face the day just yet. "Maybe one more time," I whispered between kisses.

Legolas smiled deviously. "Shall I do that thing with my thing and use the thing on your thing?"

I just laughed and gave up on being an early riser.

* * *

><p>I was finally up and dressed. Legolas was just finishing with his boots as I sat down at the looking glass to do my braids. I checked myself in the mirror, and found a mark upon my neck, the result of one of our more licentious sessions. "You've marked me," I said.<p>

"I have? Let me see." Legolas approached me and looked at me through the mirror. "Ai, so I did. Sorry about that," he said nonchalantly.

"Sorry? That's all you have to say? There is a big purple welt on my neck in a place where my collar will not cover it, and you're sorry," I complained, but not in a serious tone.

He pulled his collar away, exposing his long neck. "Would you like to mark me then? We'll be even. Everyone will know that we slept together." He threw his hand over his brow, mocking distress. "Oh, the horror of it all. What will happen when all of Mirkwood discovers that you've spent the night with the Prince?"

"Alright, enough," I said, but he became serious.

"Really, do you know what will happen?"

"They'll think I seduced you just to get you into my bed," I guessed.

Legolas picked up a comb and began separating the hair at my temples to make braids. His eyes met mine through the looking glass, brilliant blue eyes that were the color of a cloudless mid-summer's day. "They will be jealous and wish it were them."

"Then they'll say the Prince has added a new notch to his bedpost," I said, regretting the words as they slipped from my lips.

His fingers stilled in my half-braided hair. I turned my eyes downward. I didn't want to see his eyes if I'd hurt him. "I'm sorry," I apologized quickly. "I shouldn't have said–"

"But it's true, isn't it?" I looked up at him, and he had a faraway look on his face. He picked up where he left off with my braid, but he continued more slowly. "Day after day, I sit here beneath the hill, bored with nothing to do while my friends and fellow warriors risk their lives fighting the evil that closes in on us. All I can think is, I should be there with them. The guilt I feel is overwhelming at times. That's when I go in search of someone who will help me forget it all." His eyes darted to mine. "But it is not like that with you, Rúmil. You don't make me forget. You make me want to fight. You give me strength. I can't explain it, but when we make love, I feel like I can conquer the world."

"You don't have to conquer the world, just your father's decision," I told him.

"He won't listen to any of my arguments. That's why I approached your brother while he visited. I thought that if I couldn't fight myself, I could organize something through others. If I cannot be there alongside my troops, then they should at least be able to contribute to the war. I've known for a while that Mirkwood needs Lothlórien just as much as they need us, and I could have been the one to lead my people along with the Captains of Lórien … but . . ." His words trailed off to silence.

I watched him in the looking glass, while he started another braid, and I realized he was doing it in the fashion of a Mirkwood warrior. I don't think he meant to on purpose. His mind was on other things as he spoke to me about his problems with his father. There had to be more to that story than he originally led on. "What happened, Legolas? Why does Thranduil fear for his son's life?" I'd seen him fight, when I accompanied him and the others to kill the orc party and capture their leader. He was nothing short of perfection when in combat. His arrows flew from his bow at record speed, and he could switch to hand to hand combat in the blink of an eye. I had seen him slaughter the orcs one after another, using his twin long knives. Flawless elvish blades flashed through the air so fast that it looked like sparks of lightening flying from his hands. He took off one of the orcs heads, his blade slicing through its neck as though it was made of paper. It was like watching an artist paint a canvas, or a poet constructing his words. Legolas was the best Mirkwood had, so why was his father keeping his most worthy weapon hidden away?

"Do you remember the soldier we saw in the healing hall, the one who was bitten on the leg?" he asked.

"Yes, the one whose leg they took to save his life." I remembered it very well. I remembered Legolas most of all, when he comforted the young soldier, kept him from going into shock. I'd never seen anyone show such altruistic behavior towards someone they didn't not know. It was as though there was some common knowledge between them, as though Legolas shared the soldier's pain, and that could only be because . . .

"You were bitten once, weren't you?" I asked with concern.

Legolas nodded. "While out on patrol with my troops, we were ambushed by a cluster of spiders. Almost half of my regiment was either dead or dying by the time it was all over. I'd been bitten on the arm. It was quick and the fangs did not sink in very far, but enough for it to administer its poison. My men surrounded me, and discussed their plans for getting me back to the palace quickly. But in doing so, they would have to abandon some of the others that needed attention faster than me. I ordered them to take the others first. I could still walk with a little help. The poison was spreading, but not as fast as it was in other injured elves. I wouldn't be placed on a liter and carried back by ten men, when they could save ten more. Needless to say, I made it back to the palace, though during the final stretch, I had lost consciousness and had to be carried. It didn't matter. Quite a few elves were saved because of my orders. My father was furious, though. At first, he berated my troops for their impetuous behavior, until I told him that they acted upon my orders. That was the last thing I said before I went unconscious. When I awoke, a week had passed, and my arm was badly discolored and bandaged. The infected flesh had been removed and salves had been applied that would allow new skin to develop. That's why there is no scar. It was a long and painful recovery, but it worked. And it was worth every torturous moment, because all but two of my soldiers who were poisoned survived."

He had finished braiding my hair while he told his story. Now he went to my bed and sat on the edge, memories flashing before his unseeing eyes. I could tell this was painful for him to remember, but I could also see that he needed to tell someone his story. I got the feeling Legolas had never discussed this with anyone. "But you survived. You made a full recovery. You made the best decision you could at the time, and saved others in the process. Why would your father punish you for that?"

"Because during my week long healing sleep, I died twice," he answered.

I was shocked to hear this. "You … died?"

He nodded. "They say my heart stopped beating. Somehow, the healers managed to bring me back both times, some kind of technique that they'd studied in some lost archives or what not. I don't really remember the details, but whatever it was, it worked, and I am still here. However, the experience left my father shattered. Twice he thought he'd lost his son and only heir. I think it put everything in perspective somehow. He had watched my grandfather, King Oropher, die in combat. He had found my mother's lifeless body, left beaten and bloody from the orcs who found her alone in her garden. And then he watched as his only son slipped through his fingers. It had been too much for him, and if I died, Thranduil would be alone in this world. So, after that, he put restrictions on leaving the palace and how far our soldiers should patrol the surrounding area. He took away my Captain position, and ordered me to assume a position in his court. I wasn't allowed to patrol anymore. I wasn't allowed above ground for a very long time, not until I convinced him that it was making me sick to stay away from sunlight for so long, which it truly was. I was escorted on weekly outings. It was during this time that I started recruiting some of my old troop members, including Corweth and her sister, Messel, to come up with a plan that would possibly free all of us. As a member of the court, I had a little flexibility and pull. That's how your brother was given permission to come to Mirkwood. He was introduced to my father, and eventually they built a trust between them. And all the while, he knew about my plan. When he told me that he was seeking help from Mirkwood to fight against the dark tower of Dol Guldur, I knew this was our chance to fight back … to take back that which belongs to my father and to all who dwell in Mirkwood."

"But your father is beyond stubborn about it all," I said, realizing just how much Legolas had to accomplish just to get this far.

"He'd rather stay here, below the hill, than reach out to help other realms. He says it is too risky, that our numbers are too low to contribute to the cause. He thinks it will be the end of his kingdom and his people, and that's all he has left."

I took a seat on the bed next to Legolas, and kissed his cheek. "He still has you too. Thranduil wouldn't go to such lengths to protect you if he didn't care. He loves you so much that his fear of losing you has impaired his judgment. I understand him a bit better now. Yes, he's stubborn, but for good reason. But you are right, Legolas. Mirkwood cannot afford to stay out of things. Dol Guldur must be taken. The orcs must be pushed back and your forest must be cleansed. If we don't work together, we will all lose."

"It was all my fault that the trust between Haldir and my father was broken. If I hadn't let the creature out . . . But I felt for him because I could put myself in his place, locked away, no sun, no moon, no fresh air, no one to listen. I looked into the creature's pitiful eyes and saw myself," he confessed. "That's why I ordered him to be allowed one night beneath the stars. I didn't think it would do anyone any harm."

"It's not your fault, Legolas. I would have done the same thing if I was put in your position. We're all bound in one way or another, aren't we?" I smiled and stood from the bed. "I have to go. It's time."

"Do you really think you can convince my father to join Lórien?" he asked.

I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, but I will do all that I can to make that happen. In the end, it is up to your father."

As Legolas and I walked the corridors in silence, making our way to the throne room, I thought about what I'd told him, and I suddenly felt very helpless. I could talk to Thranduil until my lungs ached and my throat turned to dust, but none of that would matter if he refused to listen. It really was the King's final decision, and it could mean the life or death of this realm.

When I first arrived here, I didn't care a thing about the Wood elves. I saw this trip as my own punishment, and all of this was just a nuisance. But as I'd gotten to know some of them, especially Legolas, I started to understand them, and I realized that Wood elves were the most misunderstood elves of Middle-earth. They weren't uncaring arrogant hoarders of fortune who didn't want to participate in the outside world. They were the most passionate people I'd ever met, willing to sacrifice their freedom as they tried to protect and preserve their race. They deserved better, and I would do everything within my limited power to see that it was done.


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

The King's private audience chamber, here I was again. Somehow, the room felt bigger, more intimidating than yesterday. Had it only been yesterday that I was here? It felt like an age. Time seemed to slow drastically when I was with Legolas last night. Or maybe I wished it would stop altogether. For once, I had no worries. I allowed myself to clear all thoughts of the world from my head, and devote myself to him. For one night, he had me, mind and body, but that time was over. Now I must finish what I came here to do. I had to get Thranduil to agree to join Lothlórien and fight Dol Guldur.

"How soon will you leave?" Legolas asked. He stood beside me in the king's chamber as we waited for his father to arrive. I believed that making me wait was part of Thranduil's strategy. Yesterday, this might have bothered me, angered me, thrown me off my game. Now, I felt like I had all the time in the world, but I knew I didn't. I just needed to behave as though I did.

"I'll have to go right away if I want to be clear of the dangerous areas of the forest before nightfall," I answered. I wondered who, if any, would escort me out as they had escorted me in. No matter, I'd find my way.

"I shall go with you," Legolas said, making his mind up.

I glanced at him, and he looked so regal here, in this room, amongst the tapestries and bearskin rug. He could be a king someday, and he'd make a damn fine one too. I could see why Thranduil feared to lose him. "You can't. You have to stay here," I responded, knowing his father would never allow it, and finding that I kind of agreed with him.

He started to protest, but stopped himself as the door to the chamber began to open. One of the King's servants pushed the door and held it open. A moment later, Thranduil came in. Right away, I could see that worry sat upon his brow. Had something changed since we met last? Had he heard something about the outside world?

"Captain Rúmil, I must say, you look quite refreshed this morning. I take it you've been treated well?" Thranduil said.

"I have, Your Grace, most respectably, and I thank you for your kindness," I answered.

Thranduil stood still, only his eyes moving as they turned to the Prince. "You should be thanking my son. Seems as though he's the one who's been taking good care of you."

That stung a bit, but I had to remind myself that it was perfectly acceptable in Mirkwood to . . .

"I don't think it is any of your business what transpired between Rúmil and I," Legolas shot back.

I knew what Thranduil was trying to do, but I wouldn't let him distract me from my mission. I put a hand on Legolas' arm, signaling to him that it was alright, and that I could handle myself. I looked Thranduil squarely in the eye and smiled graciously. "Everyone in Mirkwood has been most accommodating," I said graciously. "Now, I believe we have some matters to discuss."

"We have," Thranduil said. "But first, you should know that I received information about Lothlórien."

My heart went to my throat. This was unexpected. I was instantly worried, but I had to remain calm. "What have you heard?"

"Ah, seems the tables are turned now, aren't they," Thranduil said arrogantly. "We both have information that the other wants, and you want an answer from me. So, let's see, who will speak first? I think it should be you, since you are our guest."

"What's happened in Lothlórien?" I demanded desperately.

"First, you will tell me what the orc said."

I didn't like this one bit. If something happened at home, I should be informed right away. How dare he withhold it from me? I could see I had lost my advantage. I would have to tell him all that I knew before he gave me an answer about Dol Guldur. "The creature was brought to you to keep safe. Mithrandir charged you with this task, not because of what he was, or because he was a danger to others, but because of something he knew."

"Yes, yes. I already know this. The creature knew the whereabouts of a weapon of the enemy," Thranduil said impatiently.

"And I presume you know what this weapon was?" I asked.

Thranduil's eyes flicked to Legolas, and then back to me. "It was a ring."

"Not just any ring. THE Ring. The One Ring. The one bound to Sauron's evil soul. You know this too, don't you?" I accused. I could see Legolas out of the corner of my eye, hands balling into fists, and then relaxing.

"How did you know, Father? Did you interrogate the creature?" Legolas asked.

"I did not torture him, if that's what you mean," Thranduil said impatiently. "Gollum would mumble and talk to himself. At first I just thought it was nonsense, but later I learned that there was meaning behind all the chatter. I would go down to the cells late at night and listen to him from the shadows. He was always talking about someone taking his birthday present, and say how precious it was. But the key to breaking the code was deciphering certain words. Beautiful, shining, smooth. He would use these randomly to describe his present. He would repeat over and over that HE couldn't have it. I had no idea who Gollum was talking about until I started to solve the puzzle, that the present he spoke of was the ring, and that HE was Sauron. I started to think about the wizard's involvement. Mithrandir had not had dealings with Mirkwood in an age, and suddenly he's shows up with some pitiful little monster, telling me I must help him. He wouldn't have come if it wasn't something unusually important. Add that to Gollum's information, and I figured out why Mithrandir wanted the creature. He wanted to find out where the ring was. But I had the prisoner under my roof."

"And you wanted him to tell you where the ring was so you could have it for yourself," I said, figuring out part of the mystery.

"Why Father?" Legolas called out. "Did you want it for its value or did you want to use it against the enemy?"

"I wanted to protect my kingdom, and what better way than to use such a powerful thing against its owner," Thranduil answered with a heightened degree of anger.

"And that's why you want to know what the orc told me," I said, finishing the puzzle. "You never found out what the creature knew. The orcs kidnapped him before you could extract anything from Gollum."

"And now you know, and you will tell me," Thranduil said, rounding on me.

"I do know, but first I want to hear about Lothlórien." I had a bit of leverage back, and I would use it in any way possible.

Thranduil was cornered once again, and he looked very unhappy about it. He was considering what to do, and I could see in his eyes that he'd made a decision. "Lothlórien's borders have been attacked in the North. One of the largest armies of orcs to ever have assailed the Golden Woods has caused considerable damage."

"Have they broken through?" I asked desperately.

"They have been contained, but it is said that the damage is great, with casualties … and deaths." Thranduil's voice turned from harsh to soft as he delivered the information.

"And my brothers? Have you heard anything about them?" I didn't care about anything but my family in that moment. If I had lost Haldir or Orophin, or … Valar help me … both . . .

"It was Haldir who sent the message. He is well, but your brother, Orophin was injured."

"Injured? How so? Will he survive?" The distress in my voice could not be helped. I could not hide my concern for family.

"Tell me, Captain," Thranduil said, drawing out my anxiety. "If you knew your brother was dying, and that … say … this ring was the only thing that could save his life, wouldn't you do everything in your power to obtain it?"

"Father!" Legolas called out, embarrassed and angry.

"I would," I answered quickly, because it was true. I would do whatever needed to be done in order to save my brother.

"Then you are no different than me, Captain Rúmil. You, like your brother Haldir, like to pretend you are better than any Wood elf, but we are more alike that you'll ever admit. My people are dying, and I will do anything to save them. That's why I wanted to know about the ring and its power. That's why I would have kept the creature, and not given him back to the wizard until he had told me where to find the weapon. And that's why you will tell me what you know."

Thranduil had me trapped. He wouldn't tell me the fate of Orophin until I had told him everything the orc confessed. But I was not done yet, and Thranduil would not be happy with what I had to tell him. He would undoubtedly refuse to help Lothlórien, but that didn't matter to me now.

"The orcs took Gollum to Dol Guldur, where they chained him, beat him, burned him with iron rods. They tortured him until he spoke. The ring is no longer in the creature's possession. It hadn't been in many years. He lost it a very long time ago, but he knew who had it, or at least he knew only a single name. He said a Hobbit tricked him and took the ring. The enemy knows this now. The Nazgûl have been sent out to search for the Hobbit and the ring. It has left the Shire. Last the orc heard, it was taken to Bree. The Nazgûl were dispatched. They'll kill anyone who has the ring, and anyone who protects its bearer. You'd be wise to forget about the weapon, King Thranduil, or bring even more death to your doors." There, I'd told him everything, but there was one thing I didn't think he was aware of. "The ring has been here before, in Mirkwood. It passed through here right beneath your nose, and you hadn't a clue."

Thranduil thought for a moment, and I watched as realization filled his eyes. "Bilbo Baggins," he uttered.

I nodded. "Fifty years have passed since then, and the Hobbit has had it all this time."

"And does he still have it?" asked the King.

"I don't know. I would think he would be very old by now, and traveling to Bree would be extremely difficult. Perhaps he's given it away."

"No," Thranduil said, slowly shaking his head. "A ring like that has the power to latch onto its bearer. Gollum had it for many centuries, he said, until he lost it. Bilbo would have done the same or he would have passed it on to the next generation." He paused and looked at me. "Did the orc say it was Bilbo who had the ring?"

"Gollum only gave one name, and that was Baggins. They'll be looking for anyone by that name."

Thranduil walked to the hearth, put his hand on the mantel and bowed his head as he looked into the flames. He looked defeated by this information. He must have thought that Gollum hid the ring somewhere where he could go back and retrieve it once he was free of Mirkwood's cells. And all this time, Gollum didn't have it at all.

"So that's why Mithrandir wants him. He wanted the name of the Hobbit, but the creature would not talk before the wizard was called away. He brought Gollum here because of our isolation. He didn't think I would know anything about Gollum or the ring, and he was right. It's only because of the nonsensical ramblings of the creature that I suspected any of this."

"Now, tell me about my brother," I demanded.

Thranduil turned his back towards the hearth, and played with an emerald ring on his forefinger, twisting it back and forth. "Orophin's injuries were not life threatening. A few lacerations to his arm was all. He will be just fine."

I closed my eyes and released my breath. "Thank the Valar," I whispered while bowing my head.

While I took a moment to let the good news sink in, Legolas approached his father to confront him. "When was the last time Lothlórien's borders were breached, Father? I can't remember a single time in my own lifetime. We can't keep fighting alone. We can't stay here and hope that the world outside will solve all the problems. We have to go out. We have to join forces and march on Dol Guldur. Rúmil said that the Nazgûl have been sent out to find the ring. Now is the time to attack the black tower. You say you would do anything to save your people. Now it has come to this, and it will take all of our people to save what's left of the kingdom. You have an army, and, on your word, they are ready to march south."

Thranduil observed his son's face, seeing the willingness, the bravery of a fine warrior. "I know, Son, and I've heard what our people have been saying. I've tried very hard to ignore the criticism, because I cannot stand the thought of sending you back out there. I almost lost you, Legolas. I felt the pull of my fading when I held your lifeless body in my arms. Your grandfather and your mother are gone, and you are all that I have left."

"I'm the best defense you have. You know as well as I that I should be out there fighting beside my fellow soldiers, not sitting here as a member of your court. I'm a warrior. It's what I do best. Send our troops to Lothlórien, and let me go with them. I swear to you that I'll return to Mirkwood, and that Dol Guldur will cease to exist."

The final decision sat upon Thranduil's brow as he came to his full height and approached me. "I am glad to know that your brothers are well, Captain. And I'll trust that you'll do what you can to see that my son returns to me the same. You have my army and my support for this cause. Dol Guldur must be destroyed. It's time that Mirkwood came back into the light."

All the waiting, all the anxiety, the convincing and the hope that I was doing the right thing had finally come full circle. I don't know how I managed, but I know I didn't do it alone. Legolas, Haldir, and the countless Wood elves who silently disagreed with their King, but stood by his side anyways, they had paved the way and made it possible for me to complete my mission.

I placed my hand over my heart and bowed low to the elven king. "Thank you, Your Grace."

Thranduil went to his desk to begin the paperwork that would verify his decision. I would take this back to Lothlórien, and then we would send word when it was time to march to war. Lothlórien and Mirkwood would meet on the battlefield and the enemy would not stand a chance. While Thranduil was busy, Legolas pulled me aside, smiled and patted my shoulder. "I guess the next time we meet will be in battle."

"And so it will be," I smiled in return. Finally, I could return home. Now more than ever I wished to get back, and see how Orophin was doing, see to my troops, regroup and prepare for the war.

There was a loud rapid knock on the door, and Thranduil called in a messenger, who looked very anxious and stressed. He handed a parchment to the King, and stood by to wait. I knew a thing or two about messengers, and when they waited by your side, it usually meant that an immediate response was needed. That was never a good thing. Something was happening.

"What is it, Father?" Legolas asked.

Thranduil seemed to read the note again before he answered anyone. He looked up at the messenger first. "Tell the Captains to prepare the troops. They have one hour."

The messenger nodded and bolted from the office to deliver his news. Legolas and I looked on, waiting for Thranduil to say something. "There's something happening. Orcs are trying to cross the river, a large amount of orcs, too. I believe they are answering us for what we did to the group of orcs that we killed. This must be dealt with before they find a way across the river." Thranduil looked at me next. "I'm afraid now is not a good time to begin your journey home. I suggest you stay with us a little while longer, until the threat has been reversed."

My heart fell again. I'd been waiting for this day. Everything had gone according to plan, and now this. But it was better that it was happening now and not as I made my way through the Rhovanion. "If you will agree, Your Grace, I would like to lend my bow to the cause and join Legolas with his regiment."

Thranduil glanced at his son. He had agreed to let Legolas go with the Mirkwood army to Dol Guldur. There'd be no reason not to let him fight now. "You may, Captain. Legolas, see that he has everything he needs."

Legolas bowed to his father, and then grabbed my arm. "Come on, let's go," he said pulling me out of the King's chamber. We exited through the door that led out to the main throne room, and were halfway across the stone bridge that led to the halls, when Legolas stopped. He took my head in his hands and drew me in, kissing me. I could feel him smiling against my lips before he released me. It was unexpected, though it felt wonderful. I looked around the great hall from my vantage point. Every elf within the grand room could see us, and some looked on. Others were busy dashing here and there, but more than half stopped to see who their Prince was kissing. I still wasn't used to behaving in such a manner in public, and I suddenly felt like I wanted to shrink up to the size of a grain of sand and disappear. Legolas' brilliantly blue eyes were alive with a joy I hadn't seen yet. "Thank you, Rúmil, for all that you've done. Mirkwood will finally have the chance they've been waiting for. I don't know what happened back there, but I honestly never thought my father would agree."

"I wasn't too sure myself," I said, still reeling from the kiss. I don't think he knew what kind of affect he had on someone. Everything Legolas did was done with passion. I couldn't wait to see him in battle again. "But it wasn't all my doing. You saw past your guilt for all that had happened, and you stood up to your father."

"Perhaps that's what he was waiting for me to do. Who knows? All I know is that we're going to battle with Lothlórien, our best chance at destroying the enemy." He kissed me again, this time with more than just joy. I had to admit, it was quite freeing to behave like this without worry.

"Alright you two. Plenty of time for that after our victory." Corweth was calling to us from across the way. We looked up to find her and her sister, Messel, dressed in their battle gear. We finished crossing the bridge and joined them.

"Did you hear about the orc raid?" Messel asked.

"Yes, heard it straight from the messenger," Legolas said. "And I have even better news, but you mustn't say anything before the official announcement. We're going to Dol Guldur."

Corweth looked at me, still with a bit of judgment. "I gotta admit, I had my doubts about Legolas' plan, and after meeting you, I didn't think you had it in you to turn the King's mind. Congratulations, Captain."

I was shocked to hear her sound so sincere. "Thank you," I smiled. Corweth and I had never seen eye to eye before. Perhaps there was still a chance that –

"I still think you're an arrogant son of a bitch, but you've got guts," she added.

Well, perhaps some things should not be pursued.

I followed Legolas as far as the guest quarters, where I stopped to retrieve my bow and my armor. He waited for me, and watched as I put on my thick leather chest plate and vambraces. He smiled and laughed when I was dressed.

"It's a bit much, don't you think?"

"It's called protection. Why? What do Mirkwood elves use for armor?" I asked.

"If you're as smart and quick as a Wood elf, you don't need armor," he said proudly. "All that … leather … it weighs you down, makes you slow."

"All this armor," I said gesturing to my chest and arms, "has saved my life a few times." I looked at his simple suede jerkin, undershirt and leggings with a questioning glare. "Surely you'll wear something more than that."

He prowled towards me, tilted my chin up and kissed me hard. "Well, at least I'll have fun striping you of your armor after we're victorious. Perhaps I'll use only my teeth."

"In that case, I should have thought to bring my cod piece," I said, biting his lower lip until he winced.

We released each other, remembering that there wasn't much time before we marched out, but his eyes stayed fervently on me. "I know you were anxious to leave, Rúmil, but I'm glad your departure has been postponed a few more days."

"There was a time I never thought I'd say this, but so am I." I checked the straps of my armor once more and grabbed my bow. "Nothing like a bit of frivolous flirting to get the blood going and the mind ready for battle."

"Frivolous? Did you think I was making a jest about using my teeth?" he said, and he left my room.

I don't think there had ever been a time that I so looked forward to a battle before; not only that, but what would happen once we were through. It amazed me how easily I felt about going out to fight orcs. I mean, all soldiers worry. No one wants to die or get seriously injured, but my confidence level was higher than it had ever been. It was like just another day of going to my office to file reports, only my office was a dangerous dark forest, and I was using my bow instead of a quill and ink. I think it was Legolas' own undaunted attitude that reflected back on me. He was completely impervious to what awaited us at the river. It was like that with all the Wood elves. They were so carefree and fearless. They had a job to do, they would do it, and they would return home. No one worried about not coming back. They'd deal with that when the time came, and none of them seemed to think it was their time. Some might call it overconfidence, but it had worked for them all these years. The more I learned about the Wood elves, the more I liked it here, even with the spiders and other nasty things.

* * *

><p>I was surprised that I had gotten the hang of traveling through the trees. The Wood elves moved much more gracefully than me, but I managed to keep up. I remembered coming here, following Corweth and Messel, falling behind, and the reprimanding looks that the sisters constantly gave me. But I was a bit different now than I had been when I first arrived in Mirkwood.<p>

It was amazing to watch them run along the boughs, leaping from branch to vine, swinging to the next tree, and then traveling as though they walked on solid ground. It took me a bit more concentration, but I was proud of my footing. At least I didn't fall. That would have been disastrous. Legolas kept an eye out for me, though, and for that reason, I made sure to keep my balance.

I loved watching him move through the trees, long legged, tall and handsome as he was, he made it look effortless. I'd meant it when I told him I was happy to stay a little while longer. Everything about him was contagious, his smile, his sexy stare, the way he seduced me so easily. Who knew what would happen between us if I stayed permanently in Mirkwood. I wouldn't, of course. My place was definitely in Lothlórien, but I was already planning on visiting this place again. Perhaps that's what Haldir found here too, freedom to be who we were. As long as he kept his freedom away from Legolas, I smiled to myself.

"Having fun yet, Captain?" Messel said as she came up next to me.

"The most I've had in years, as a matter of fact. It feels good to be amongst the trees again. The palace is beautiful, but I prefer the fresh air."

"Hopefully, we will all be able to enjoy life topside soon," she said sounding just a bit skeptical.

"This is why it is so important for every one of the free people of Middle-earth to fight for what they believe in. Sauron cannot win this war," I encouraged.

We moved along, traveling together for a while before she spoke again. "The Prince seems to have taken a real liking to you. I haven't seen him this happy in many years, not since his terrible accident."

"The poisoning, yes, he told me. He is very lucky to be alive. And Thranduil loves his son very much or he wouldn't have gone to such lengths," I said.

"It seemed unfair, but I understood why he did it. But it also hurt Legolas tremendously. His whole life he's trained as a soldier. When his father ordered him to the palace and the court, it was like taking his arms. That part of him was gone, but the ghostly feelings still existed. It's because of you that he has his life back as a warrior. When our people learned that the Prince was to be our Captain again, everyone's moral was boosted. You'll have one unstoppable army of Wood elves by your side when the time comes."

Orders came from up ahead to halt, and Messel and I stopped. I was glad for the break. I needed to replenish my energy. Even Messel seemed out of breath, and she did this kind of thing every day. I took out my water skin and offered it to her, but she refused, bringing out her own. We drank and caught our breath while waiting for orders to continue forward. I just hoped there wasn't trouble yet. The river was still quite a ways away.

"Legolas really likes you, Rúmil," she said again, as though it worried her.

"As I've gotten to know him, I've found that I like him too. We have much in common, and he is a great friend," I answered to ease her mind.

"I think he considers you as more than a friend. I … I don't mean to intrude, but … well … it's obvious that something has transpired between the two of you, something more than friendship. You don't have to deny or confirm. I just know what I see, the way he looks at you when you're not watching. Just be careful, Captain Rúmil. Legolas is very precious to us. We would hate to see his heart broken."

"I wouldn't think of hurting him. He holds a very special place within my heart. But at the same time, we have talked about it, and we have an understanding. The reality is … Legolas is a Prince, and he is bound to a life in Mirkwood where he might someday sit on the throne. And I am dedicated to Lothlórien, to my Lord and Lady of Light, and to the army. Legolas knows I must leave and go back home. But, of course, there is always the possibility that I'll come back this way in the near future. I know I was a little put off when we first met, but Mirkwood really is a unique place, and I would like to get to know it better."

Messel smiled, satisfied with my answer. "Good, I'm glad you both understand, because if anything were to ever happen, and my sister found out . . . Well, let's just say, I wouldn't want to be in your boots."

"Well, yes, your sister does scare me a bit, but you may assure her that everything will be just fine, and that once I go home, your Prince will still be mentally intact." She laughed at my comment.

"Rúmil, a word?" Legolas said, coming up from the branches below us.

"Have you heard any news?" I asked.

"The scouts have returned. They've been to see the border guards, and it looks like we need to hurry. Orcs have suddenly increased in intelligence it seems. They are trying to cross the river with ropes and rafts."

I remembered when I first came here. Corweth used the same method to cross the river, using the boat that they kept hidden with a camouflaging blanket. "They didn't find the boat, did they?" I asked. Legolas looked confused for a moment, and Messel clarified, telling him about my misadventures. When she was done telling him every last detail, they both laughed.

"You touched the water?" Legolas smiled deviously, teasing me as he liked to do when he knew I was discomfited.

"Corweth warned him," Messel added.

"I'd been shot in the leg and thrown forward," I defended myself. "And besides, Corweth did not warn me about the water."

"You know now, though, so I don't need to warn you," Legolas said. He kissed me quickly, but his eyes lingered on mine a moment longer. "You're cute when you're flustered."

I could feel my face heat with embarrassment, and I knew I turned multiple shades like a chameleon. Legolas ignored my flustered state. "We can travel below. No orcs were spotted on this side of the river. This will be faster. We have to hurry. The group of border guard at the river banks is not many. They'll be outnumbered if the orcs are successful." He grabbed the closest vine and slid down with one hand, his feet running along the tree trunk as he went. How was he able to move with such ease and agility?

"I told you he liked you … a lot," Messel said as she, too, slid down the vine. I was next, but I used both hands. Falling would not be a smart thing to do right now.

* * *

><p>Finally, we were getting close to the river. I could hear the rushing water. Everyone readied their weapons, and so did I. I was waiting for Legolas to start giving commands, but he never did. So, how would the troops know where to go and what to do? I wondered, but no orders ever came. Suddenly, Wood elves started running off in different directions, each choosing where they would go. Legolas stood and watched to see where his troops went, as though he was making a mental map. His eyes were intense as he concentrated. Soon, there were no elves in plain sight, except for the two of us. He looked at me, blue flames burning within the brilliant irises, ready to answer the call to battle.<p>

"And now the fun begins. Watch and learn, Captain, and see how the Wood elves defeat their enemy," he said with passion. Then he ran towards the trees that ran along the edge of the river, and I followed him.

We crouched behind a group of rocks, out of sight from the orcs. Legolas peered around the edge, his elven sight taking count of the enemy across the fast flowing water. He watched for what seemed like a long time, and when he sat back down next to me, he was smiling.

"And just what is so amusing?" I asked.

He laughed quietly. "There's a row of about ten bodies laid out at the river's edge. In their attempts to cross the river, they seem to have been rather unsuccessful. Clumsy oafs have fallen under the water's spell. The bad news is, there's a small army of them waiting their turns. And they've somehow managed to get a rope to the other side."

"That's not good. They'll start coming across on their rafts," I said, and wondered how he didn't find this situation urgent. "If we cut the rope on this side of the river–"

"And where's the fun in that?" he said lightheartedly.

"I don't think you understand the severity of the situation here," I argued. This was ridiculous. Legolas behaved as though this was no more than a training exercise. Maybe Thranduil was right to confine him to the palace. His lack of respect for battle would get him killed.

Legolas looked around the rocks again, and spoke of what he saw. "Well, you may be right. There's three rafts with about ten orcs each crossing right now."

"What!" I exclaimed.

"Shall we let them come ashore or let them sail downriver?" he asked casually, as though he was choosing a wine to go with a meal.

"You have a chance to destroy them while they're on water, and you'd let them come ashore?" I asked angrily. "This isn't a game, Legolas. These are murderous creatures that would rip your heart from your chest and eat it while it was still beating."

"You're right. Time to set sail, then," he smiled.

I was completely flabbergasted by his demeanor. He was making this into some kind of joke. "What kind of preposterous, foolhardy–"

He interrupted me with a loud whistle that sounded like a bird call, and never took his eyes off me as he did so. He was answered by a similar whistle and he smiled. "Watch," he whispered.

I was almost afraid to take my sight off of the Prince, afraid of what other kind of foolish thing he might do. But my curiosity got the better of me, and I looked out from behind our hiding spot. There were three rafts, lengths of wood tied together by vines, and each one had at least ten orcs on it. Across the way, there were three more makeshift rafts waiting to be launched, and plenty of orcs to ride them. It seemed like an easy enough shot. The rope anchored between the shores could be easily severed by an arrow, and they would have no way across. So, I set my eyes to watch the rope, waiting to see it give and set the orcs on a rafting trip that they were bound not to survive. Two more bird calls went out, and I waited. Then suddenly, the first raft of orcs became unruly. They were beginning to panic, looking down at the flimsy boat carrying them. That's when I heard Legolas utter something in elvish under his breath. I only caught a word here and there, something about the orcs sticking their cocks in their own mouths and . . .

Suddenly, the boat started to just fall apart. The wooden logs separated and drifted out from under the orcs. At first, I thought the vines they'd used to tie them together came undone. The orcs scrambled to hold the logs together, but it was no use. The whole raft of creatures went into the river. They didn't even struggle once they were immersed in the enchanted water. They just went limber and the rushing waters carried them away. Meanwhile, the two remaining boats stopped and watched. Some started checking the ties, some just laughed and pointed to their fallen comrades. An orc on the shore called out an order, and the boats started moving forward again. Then their captain gave another command, and the boats waiting to be launched were given a good once over to make sure they would not fall apart.

Legolas whistled again, this time sounding like a different kind of bird. There was no answer, but suddenly a second boat started to fall apart. The orc captain yelled at them to keep it together, but it did little good. There was an outbreak of confusion on their side of the shore, and they were focused on the faulty boats. More orcs were rolling into the water, and the captain started yelling and calling for the heads of the orcs responsible for building the boats. Legolas whistled a third time. About the same time that I realized his whistles were signals, so did one of the orcs in the third boat, which was beginning to come apart. I saw him pull something out of one of the logs and yell back to the shore before going into the water … 'zan' … I believe the orcish word for elf.

"They know it was elves," I told Legolas, but when I turned to him, he was already sprinting away. I followed him quickly, always keeping an eye on the far shore.

"How were you able to do that?" I asked once I'd caught up to him.

"Specially made darts with razor sharp heads that slice. The orcs used vines, not rope, to make their boats. These darts were made to cut those vines. It's a technique we use when hunting things in the woods. Mostly, we use it to cut the mooring lines of the giant spider webs. Destroy those, and their webs fall apart. And their small enough to go undetected." He was quite proud of himself.

"Aren't you worried in the least that the orcs discovered your trick?" I worried.

"That was just a distraction. While they were focused on the boats, the rest of my warriors made their way further upstream. There's a place where the trees grow tall and wide, spreading their branches over the river. They will have crossed to the other side by now, completely undetected by the enemy. By the time they realize what is happening, they will be surrounded by elves. Now hurry, Rúmil. I've waited a long time to join the battle. I'll not miss it now. Follow me."

He didn't give me a chance to protest or ask more questions, and he was running along just inside the tree line that followed the shore. We made it just as the last of the elves were crossing high up in the canopy. It was a long climb to the tops of the trees, but once there, we would be impossible to see. I was looking up, trying to judge the distance when Legolas spoke.

"You'd go much faster and easier without that confining armor," he said while taking hold of a vine that hung to the forest floor. I knew he was right. The way Wood elves traveled and fought required as much agility as one could muster. But I'd never fought without it before.

Legolas handed me a vine while I stood by contemplating whether or not I should abandon my armor. "When you're ready, just do as I do. It's a trick I use to get up high in a hurry." He took one of his knives and cut a second vine while holding on to the first. Suddenly, he was being lifted into the tree, going higher and higher, like some kind of pulley system. "Cut the one to the left and hold on tight," he called down.

"Well," I said to myself. "If I'm going to fight alongside the Wood elves, I might as well fight like one." I shucked off my shoulder pads, chest armor, chainmail and vambraces. Then I grabbed the vine tight in one hand while chopping through the vine to the left. Instantly I was soaring straight up through the tall massive tree, missing branches by inches along the way. I felt like I was going forever when it suddenly came to an abrupt halt. Legolas and a couple other soldiers were waiting for me and pulled me by my legs, steading me on a very large branch.

"Are you ready?" Legolas asked before I had my bearings. "Feels better, doesn't it?" he said gesturing to my loss of armor.

"Feels like less protection," I grumbled.

Legolas took me by the arm, and gently pulled me into him, whispering against my cheek. "I know you can take care of yourself, but nonetheless, I won't let anything happen to you." He turned my face towards his so that we were looking at each other. "It's not the armor that makes you brave, makes you deadly, or helps you win the fight. It's all up here," he pointed to his head. "It's knowing that you are better, faster, smarter and stronger than those foul beasts. It's knowing that you're immortal, and they'll never take that away from you." He kissed me with firm, confident lips, and then pulled away to capture me with those beautiful blue eyes. "And it's knowing that when we are through here, I'm going to ravish every inch of you."

"That's the best battle speech I've ever heard," I replied, feeling that same confidence that Legolas exuded.

He tilted his head up and laughed. "I do admire that wit of yours, Rúmil. Don't ever lose it."

We traveled high in the trees and found ourselves on the other side of the river, joining the Wood elves already there. The orcs were just ahead, so we had to make our way carefully. We didn't want to be detected before we were in place to attack. From up here, we would open fire, taking out a decent sized number of their army by surprise. But in only a moment, the orcs would know where we were and begin firing back. That's when it would become chaos, and that's when I was at my best.

Legolas signaled for all the elves to take their places, and we waited for the final command to release our arrows. Below, the orcs were still trying to figure out where the darts came from that ruined their rafts. They thought the elves were still across the river, getting ready to send a hail of arrows. They never thought to look up. It was a genius plan. Everyone knew the spiders would never come this close to the river, so there was no reason to worry about what was over their heads.

Everyone had their bows nocked and ready. Legolas gave one last whistle and we all released our arrows. Orcs fell left and right, and time seemed to slow as I watched the confusion below. They stood there watching each other collapse. It felt like it took minutes before they realized what was happening, and a good number of them never really knew what hit them. Some elves got five or six arrows launched before the orcs figured out that we were above them, firing from the trees. Once they did, the surviving enemies took cover behind fallen logs or rock formations. That's when the real battle began.

We were only safe in the trees for seconds, when the orcs found us. Their bowmen targeted us and Legolas called out another command, telling the elves to brace for the hit. Orc arrows were longer and thicker, and though they flew straight and true, they seemed sluggish. No injuries for the first round. The second round was more successful for the orcs. I could hear the cries of several elves and cringed. Where was Legolas, I thought, and looked out from behind the bole of the tree where I took cover. My eyes scanned the treetops until I saw him. He was fine, but he was looking frantically around until his eyes met mine. He was watching out for me, but I was watching for him too. After all, I'd told his father I'd let nothing happen to him, and I took my job very seriously. The King might have been referring to the march on Dol Guldur, but as long as we were fighting side by side, I felt he should be in my care.

There was a brief lull in the action, and Legolas shouted one last command to his troops, to attack. Elves began dropping to the forest floor. Now we were in full battle, face to face combat, no more protection from the tree tops. Now, every elf fought for himself or those closest to him, and I realized that Legolas was not next to me, but he was within sight. It felt good to be on the ground where I could fight as I was trained to do. My bow would do me no good now, so I drew my sword and buried it into the closest orc. I felt it slice through skin and muscle, felt it catch and pull as I removed it. I spun, sword extended and took the head off of an orc that I heard coming up from behind. My whole body was a weapon, and my sword was an extension of that power. One after another, I exterminated the orcs, and so did my fellow elves. The forest floor started to become slick with black blood. I was in my element. I was unstoppable.

Whenever I had a moment, I would find Legolas and be relieved to know he was alright. Really, I had no reason to do this. He was amongst the best elvish warriors in Middle-earth. It wasn't until the action around me stalled that I was able to really watch him. I couldn't take my eyes off him. He moved with grace and killed with savagery. His long knives moved so fast, all I saw was a flash of light before black blood sprayed from its victim. It was a warrior's dance, one that only a very few knew. Legolas was always in motion, his feet moving like that of a dancer, his shoulders flexing, hair whipping out as he spun and stabbed. Legolas was pure poetry in every way he moved, unrelenting and barbarous yet beautifully hypnotic. I was completely mesmerized while watching him slaughter the orcs. They knew he was important just by the way he carried himself, and it attracted them to him like flies. Legolas seemed to enjoy his popularity, as he wore a smug look upon his face. All I could think was that I wanted to be there with him, not for protection, but to feed off of his energy.

I fought my way to him, unable to stay away any longer. I wanted to join him in his dance. He saw me and met me half way. "Are you well?" he asked right away.

"I am, but I thought you might need a little help," I answered. Of course, he needed no help from me.

He laughed at that, and then we were killing orcs together, playing with them like a pair of felines teasing a mouse. I'd never experienced anything like it. We were corresponding in our moves, harmonious to each other, as though we shared one mind. Fighting alongside Legolas was just about as alluring as having sex with him. The blood pulsed and ran hot through the veins just the same. We moved in unison, just as we did when he shared a bed. We were both drenched in sweat and pheromones. But instead of cocks in our hands, we carried swords.

The orcs were defeated. Those who sensed it tried to run, but the elves did not let them get far. Some escaped, those who left the fight early, but now they would have to deal with their masters, and knowing orcs, it wouldn't turn out well for them either.

In Lothlórien, we would burn the bodies. No one wanted the stench of rotting corpses to befoul our home. Legolas told us to leave them as a message to future enemies who thought they could sneak into Mirkwood.

There were no elf deaths, but more than a few were injured, some poisoned by the orc blades. These elves were put in the boat and carefully escorted across the river. Everyone else navigated the trees. I offered to help with the injured, but Legolas said there were elves put in place to deal with that. I could tell he wanted me all to himself, and I wasn't about to argue with him. My blood still pulsed strong from the exertion of battle. I wasn't tired, and I wished there was more to do at the moment. I needed to shed some of this residual energy from fighting, when every part of the body was in sensory overload. My ears were ringing, my fingers tingled. My feet could sense a worm moving below the surface at this point. I felt good. I felt alive. I felt wonderfully libidinous.

We climbed the trees to cross the river, but then we went back onto the ground. Once on the King's land, there was no fear of attack. The orcs had been neutralized, and the spiders did not dwell here. We were safe for the moment, and everyone took their time heading for home. Some walked in groups, telling stories of their recent kills. Some traveled with only one or two other elves, exhaustion already setting upon them. Legolas and I walked together, elves coming and going as they stopped to congratulate Legolas for another successful battle, Corweth and Messel among them.

"Good to have you back, Prince Legolas," Corweth said.

"It's good to be back," Legolas smiled.

"And the Captain did well today too," Messel said to me. "But where is your armor?"

I'd been so wrapped up in the victory, I'd forgotten to retrieve it, left laying beneath the trees at the river. I said a curse under my breath. I had to go back. It was my Lothlórien armor, part of my uniform. I said as much to Legolas. "I can't return home without it."

The mention of returning home sparked sadness in Legolas' eyes, but it was gone in the same instant. Now was not the time to think about it. I still had a couple days left in Mirkwood before I would start my journey home.

"I'll go with you," Legolas offered. "Corweth, see that everyone gets back to the palace, and that the injured are taken straight to the healers. Send a messenger ahead so that they are prepared, and have him relay the news of our victory."

Corweth bowed and left to carry out her orders. Messel touched my arm and smiled before following her sister. I remembered her message about Legolas and I. I could tell she was glad for us, but worried about how the Prince would react when I left for home.

Legolas and I went off, running at an easy pace to get back to where I left my armor. "What's the hurry?" I asked, from behind.

"I want to show you something," he called back to me.

I noticed we were not going in the right direction, but I didn't question him. He knew these parts better than I did. We went along, following the river, but staying far from the shore. We passed the place where the trees overhung the river, where I'd left my armor. "Legolas," I called to remind him.

"This is not it, but we'll stop here on our way back," he said, barely out of breath from our run. Even running, Legolas made it look effortless.

All Wood elves gave that illusion, and I realized that they really were different from the elves of Lothlórien and Rivendell. They were rogue elves, living by their own set of rules, taking each day one at a time, soaking up every last thing that surrounded them, and conforming to the land. They were hunters, warriors … lovers, just like the rest of us, but everything they did, they did with deep passion. Most of the time, I didn't think they knew they were doing it at all. It was just bred into them. Wood elves were linked back to the Teleri, the elves who defied the Valar and chose to stay in Middle-earth when they were called back to the Undying Lands. Until now, I'd always thought of them as crude, undisciplined, wayward elves who openly resisted our makers to live frivolously without any leadership. But I was wrong. They challenged the powers not out of defiance, but because they loved Middle-earth with great desire. They saw the potential for the lands, for the forests and the streams, for the animals and eventually the other races of the world. They helped shape some of them, especially the minds of the trees, who loved the elves in return and gave them safety and shelter. And so they taught the trees to talk, and the love affair with Middle-earth continued. I often wondered what would have happened if no elves stayed here, thinking that maybe evil would not have found its way. But I could see now, what great things the Teleri did, paving the way so that I could eventually stand here and revel in their work. Legolas and the Wood elves were their descendants, and that same need to teach, to learn, to love and protect had survived through the centuries and generations. Their ancestors would be proud, I'm sure, but would they be saddened to see the Wood elves confined to their separate nation now? I thought that they might weep to know this. Now more than ever, I wanted Mirkwood free of the darkness. I wanted them to be able to reconnect with their heritage, and live as the Teleri once had. At least, we were taking a step in the right direction. Dol Guldur would have to fall first.

"We're here," Legolas said, coming to a halt in front of some kind of ancient ruins, barely visible through the overgrown trees and vines that kept it hidden.

"What is this place?" I wondered aloud.

"This way," he said, smiling.

Legolas led me to a door covered in vines. It was set into a stone wall, each grey stone carefully chosen to fit amongst the others. The door was rotting at the bottom where the moisture seeped into it constantly, but it still hung on its hinges. Even the hinges were a thing of art, beautiful scroll work, made of iron vining detain. Even after the wooden door was gone, these hinges would still be here.

He pushed the door, and it creaked, but it was fastened by the vines. I took out my dagger and started cutting them to make it easier to open. Legolas pushed and the door scraped the ground. Leaves had piled up on the inside, but we managed to open it enough to go inside. Once we were in, I found myself looking at what was once a grand room or hall. It was circular with marble archways lining the sides, and windows on the walls beyond the arches. The glass was long since broken, and some of the window frames were deteriorated so that it looked like a hole was knocked out. What detail was still intact was beautiful. Large columns as wide as oak trees extended towards the sky. The roof was gone, now part of the floor beneath my feet. Leaves, weeds, and grass made the floor now, growing over the destruction. Still, I could just imagine how extravagant this room must have looked at one time. Then, glancing to my left, I made out what must have been a dais. The steps still remained, but now they led to cracked and broken marble. It looked unsafe to walk on, like it might cave in. There was a tree growing out of one corner of the dais, responsible for tearing up the white marble flooring.

Legolas stood next to me, looking around the ruins as though he was seeing them as they used to be before nature took over. "This was my grandfather's throne room when he was King."

I was surprised to learn this. "I thought the palace had always been your home, and your grandfather's too."

"Yes, it was, but his throne room was out here, away from the underground city. The palace was for the residents of Mirkwood, but this is where King Oropher held court and welcomed his guests. Remember, this was before the Rhovanion became sick. It was green and luscious back then. People came here all the time … Men of Dale, Lake-men of Esgaroth, Woodsmen of the north, even a dwarf or two had come to speak with the King."

"What happened to it? Why was it abandoned?" I wondered.

"My father, after he became King, held court here too, but after the war that took my grandfather's life, not many people came to Greenwood. You see, they came to see Oropher, but they did not know Thranduil. And the war … it changed my father, made him less trusting of outsiders. So, without any visitors, this place was abandoned, left for nature to retake it."

"Perhaps you can rebuild it, once we defeat the darkness," I suggested.

"We?" he said, turning to me, a hopeful tone to his voice.

"Lothlórien and Mirkwood," I clarified.

"Oh," he said sadly.

I rested my hand gently on his shoulder. "Legolas, you know I cannot stay. This is not my home."

"I know," he whispered. Then, a fire burned in his blue eyes as he looked upon me. "But you could let it be your sanctuary, like this place once was to my grandfather, because here you are free, Rúmil. Here you can be yourself without worry. And here," he pushed me against a moss covered wall. "Here you are mine, without interruption." He captured my lips, kissing me passionately, taking my breath away.

I brought my arms up to wrap around his neck, but he lifted them over my head, pinning me to the wall. His hips writhed against mine, our bodies flat against each other. One of his hands held my wrists while the other found its way to the swell of my leggings. He kneaded me through the material, and then he made short work of my laces. The next thing I knew, he held me in his hand, releasing me from the confines of my leggings. He stroked me in a way that made me pulse and strain, made me hold my breath, as my hips gyrated, pushing as much of me into his hand as I could. With my blood still running hot from the excitement of battle, it didn't take much to come to the height of arousal. Between his mouth sucking my neck, and the stimulating stroke of his hand, I couldn't hold on for long. My whole body vibrated with the effects of his meticulous stroking, and I thought my legs would give out. I moaned and threw my head back against the mossy wall, crying out with ecstasy until the euphoric sensation subsided. Legolas held me against the wall, and let me regain my senses, all the while kissing me gently over my face and neck, as he whispered in my ear.

"Let me be your sanctuary, Rúmil. Out there, you belong to Lothlórien, but here you belong to me."

My voice had escaped me, as I was still recovering from my quick but satisfying release that left me feeling languorous and drained of my strength. "I … I would … like that," I whispered, my mind struggling to form words. I found just enough energy to kiss him, soft and slow so he would know how much I would like that. Then I slid down the wall, dropping to my knees. I carefully untied the laces of his leggings. His fingers combed through my hair, and teased the tips of my ears. I pulled back the flaps of his pants and released him. Then I looked up at him though my lashes, my lips parted and hungry to taste him. Our eyes met, both of us lusting for satisfaction. He held my face in his palm and smiled.

Just before I took him in, a name came to me. "Legolas, iaun nín," I called him. It meant 'my sanctuary' in Sindarin. I'd made sure to name him in his own tongue instead of Quenya. I had decided that when I came to Mirkwood, I would conform to their way of life as well as their language. I needed to separate myself from Lothlórien when I was with Legolas, and be someone completely different from the elf I was at home.

"Yes, Rúmil," he uttered soft and low, pulling me to him, and I began my ministrations. "For as long as you need me."


	7. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

If there was one thing I learned about Wood elves, it was that they never missed an opportunity for a celebration. After successfully turning back the orcs at the river and the minimal number of injured elves returning from the battle, King Thranduil announced that there would be a celebration in honor of the brave warriors and their victory. We had one night to rest, upon our return, but the following evening would be a celebration of grand proportions. There would be dancing, food, wine, and entertainment that would surely last long into the night. It had been a long time since I attended such festivities. I was rather excited to see how Wood elves made merry. Lothlórien had their fair share of such merriment, of course. We did not have a gallant affair for every victory, and we would have considered something like the battle at the river just another day at the borders. I could see why it was important to the Wood elves. Living as they did, they needed to separate themselves from the looming darkness whenever the chance arose.

Tonight, though, was our first night back at the palace, and the returning warriors were exhausted. Legolas stayed with me in my guest quarters. We were not long for the conscious world, and we slept soundly beside each other. When I woke late in the night, he hadn't moved at all, and Legolas, as I'd learned during my stay here, was a light sleeper.

It was his first time back with his regiment in a long time. He had fallen back in step, as though he'd been fighting all this time. I could tell his warriors were just as glad to have him back. I think he was worried, though. The thought hadn't crossed my mind until now, seeing him in deep elvish sleep. What worried him most, I wondered. Was he afraid he'd forgotten how to fight, how to command, or was he scared that he'd lost the respect and discipline of his troops? Whatever it was, he learned that nothing had changed, and there had never been anything to fear.

I thought about the moment when we stood back to back, slashing our swords, killing the oncoming orcs. We were a perfect match in battle. It was euphoric to fight alongside him. I'd known that before it had happened, as I made my way to him. All I could think was that I needed to be as close to him as possible, to feel his glorious power and strength. How could this magnificent creature be kept away from what he was, from what he did best? Well, I thought with a smirk, one of the things he did best.

By the gods, Legolas was an amazing lover. I thought of our private moment amongst the ruins. The way he held me in his hand, and brought me to such great heights, I sighed. I'd never experienced anything so sensational in all my life. Being with him was addictive, my one dirty little cryptic habit. What would they say in Lothlórien if they knew I took a savage Wood elf as a lover? If only they knew what I knew, then they'd all be jealous, or they would want one of their own. But Legolas wasn't something to own. He wasn't tamable, and that's what I liked best. He was a free spirit, and he had taught me a lot.

When I finally went home, I would miss this. I would miss the freedom I was allowed in Mirkwood. I would miss Legolas. This was something I didn't want to admit, but it was true. There was something about him that no one else could replicate. And I knew he felt similarly about me, but I think it was stronger for Legolas. This was when two individual must be very careful about their relationship. To a degree, that's what Legolas and I had. For me, I wasn't sure what I felt towards Legolas. Was it love? Well, not true, mad about you, connecting with our souls love. I'd loved like that once already, and this was nothing as emotionally binding. It wasn't just lust either. I cared for him, and I knew I would think about him often when he was not around. I couldn't put my finger on it. My feelings for Legolas hadn't always been the same, not like they were when I met Túron.

With Túron, it felt like a whirlwind. I knew right away that I loved him, and when I learned that he returned the feelings, it felt like floating above the ground. It sounds ridiculous, but there is no other way to explain it. I was light-headed, light in the feet, light in the chest, fluttering like the moth within my heart. I only ever felt that one emotion towards Túron, and it was wonderful while it lasted. But it hurt tremendously when he was gone. The lightness wasn't there. I was heavy and burdened, as though I was filled suddenly with rock and sand. I still felt like that when I came to Mirkwood, though not as weighted. I had managed to unload some of the heavier pieces, if that makes any sense.

As far as things went with Legolas, my feelings for him had evolved during my stay. At first, I thought he was pompous and arrogant. I saw him as the epitome of all Wood elves, and the spoiled son of their stubborn king. But as I got to know him, my impression of him changed as well as my feelings for him. I enjoyed learning about Mirkwood, about Wood elves, and Legolas. I helped him find his voice with his father, and he helped me learn to be a free spirit. We each took the strongest parts of our personalities and taught the other how to change, to conform, to be more complete. And in the process, I slowly learned to like him, to feel close to him, to love him, but in a different more mature way than I had loved Túron. With Túron, there was nothing to evolve into. Like I said before, it was a whirlwind romance cut short. For Legolas and I, it was a slow process of getting acquainted, becoming aware of each other's personalities, consciousness of our wants and needs, filling our voids, blending, molding, merging together, completing each other.

That was it, wasn't it? Legolas and I had to complete this process, making us more appreciative of each other. Túron and I were already who we were, and we either couldn't, wouldn't or didn't want to change. We just loved each other deeply, and we didn't need anything more from each other. I thought it was enough, but maybe it wouldn't have been if we had been allowed the opportunity. I'd known Legolas for a shorter amount of time, but I felt like I knew him better than I ever knew Túron. But that doesn't erase the devotion I felt for my first true love. All I wanted was to have him back in my life, to make it work for us. It would mean having to live our secret lives together, and I was fine with that. However, since coming to Mirkwood, and experiencing life here, living out in the open, free from judgment, I wasn't sure I could go back to a secret life, not with someone I really cared about.

So the question remained. Did I love Legolas? Well, I would miss him when I left, and I already knew that I could hardly wait to see him again, though it might be a long time. And when that day came, I would fall under his spell of enchantment, and revel in the ecstasy of becoming one with him again. Suddenly, a long time seemed like too long.

Legolas shifted in his sleep, his arm snaking over my bare stomach as he pulled me into him. I think I could get used to this, and it scared me, because the one thing I knew for a fact was that anyone I had ever loved eventually had to go away. Though Legolas and I couldn't reside together, I feared something might happen that would keep me from ever returning to him. Perhaps for now it was better that I didn't give in any more to my feelings, and just let things be what they were. I would have to leave for home soon anyways. There was no use trying to figure this all out. As far as I was concerned, we enjoyed each other's company, and we had earth-shattering sex. I should just leave it at that.

Legolas' face nuzzled against my neck, and he moaned as he came out of his slumber. Then, his hips gyrated, and his hardening cock pushed against my thigh. The feel of it made my own pulse to life. I had to admit, there was nothing better than waking aroused and lying next to a willing partner. This, I would remember. This, I would miss.

"I need you, Rúmil," he whispered sleepily.

"I can tell," I answered, my voice clear and alert.

"You're already awake?" he asked.

I nodded and reached out, taking him in my hand, lightly stroking him. "Anything wrong?" he said.

"Just thinking that I must be leaving soon," I admitted. I had to keep myself from getting too comfortable.

"You've been saying that since you first got here," he smiled against my neck, warm lips kissing my sensitive skin. "And you're still here."

"Not by my choice." I cringed as the last word passed my lips. Now, I was trying too hard.

Legolas sat up on his elbow and looked down at me. "I thought it was partially your choice." There was a bit of an edge to his voice.

"I didn't mean it like that," I said apologetically. "My visit here has been … unique. I came here with only one mission, and so much more has happened. You know that."

"And it's not over yet. There's still the celebration tonight," he reminded me as he resumed his soft kisses.

"About that–"

"Oh no. You're not getting out of it." Legolas threw his leg over both of mine, trapping me. He must have sensed my need for escape.

"I have nothing to wear to such a festival, and I doubt my uniform or my riding clothes will be acceptable. From what I've heard, these are quite elegant affairs."

"You'll wear something of mine." He didn't have a care in the world, and I was nothing but concerned. He moved so that our cocks touched and rubbed against each other. Then his hand came down, and he took us both, locking us together as he stroked. I gave in immediately, and wondered how I could not have feelings for Legolas.

"You'll spoil me, and I may never want to leave." I kissed his cheek and ran my tongue along the edge of his jaw line, targeting his ear, nibbling my way to the perfect tip.

A satisfied laugh bubbled up from his throat in answer to my comment. His grip firmed upon our joined cocks, and he threw his head back into his pillow, exposing the ivory skin of his long neck. It was an invitation to more than just kissing. He was inviting me to know this kind of luxury every day, if only I would stay in Mirkwood. The conscious thought of the reality of that invitation niggled at the back of my mind, but I pushed it aside for the moment. Not now, I thought. Not while we were enjoying the contentment of waking together without interruption. I'd never had so many moments like this one. This kind of private bliss only happened every now and then for me, but since giving in to Legolas, we had spent almost every morning waking to each other. But this was only temporary. I couldn't be with Legolas outside of this place. It wasn't my home, and I needed to get back there.

"Don't fight it," Legolas said out of nowhere, as though he had been reading my thoughts. It wasn't difficult to do. I had lost concentration and I wasn't responding to his strokes as I was a moment ago. "It's just like we agreed. While you are here, you are mine and I am yours. Relax and stop thinking, Rúmil. You think too much." As he spoke, his grip tightened, and the heat from his hand made our skin sticky. I offered my hand and his moved his up. He kneaded us close to our bodies while I rubbed our heads, spreading the pearly essence that was the result of our anticipation. Our hands moved in unison, stroking longer and faster. We kissed, our tongues sliding over each other, mouths devouring. Our breath became erratic, as the sexual desire built deep within, swirling, growing, coming to the surface. I could feel him pulsating, and it made me respond, catching up with him.

"Are you close?" I asked.

"So close," he breathed airily. "You?"

"Oh gods, yes," I whispered. It was enough to make sure we were at the same height of passion. I adjusted my hand, and with both of us in my palm, I knew what to do to make us come together.

Legolas released just a second before I did. I watched him splash between our stomachs, and then I joined him. Our hands were slick, milking every last bit. We moaned and shuddered against each other, letting the sensations wash over us like a satiny wave. And I realized how attune we were in mind and body … and it wasn't just sex. We fought beside each other with the same kind of synchronization. It was as though our minds melded whenever our adrenaline surged. No one on this earth had ever had that effect on me. It felt incredible and shocking. It was a rush. It was addictive, and I found myself craving it more and more.

* * *

><p>Later that day, I went to Legolas' room to see what I would wear. He wasn't there, but one of his servants was, and several gorgeous outfits were laid out upon his bed. The servant, a young elleth with honey hair and green eyes, finished smoothing down the last outfit, and turned when she heard me enter the room. Right away she smiled warmly, the kind of smile that was contagious … that made you want to smile back and engage her in conversation.<p>

"You must be Rúmil of Lothlórien," she sang, and I noticed she did not call me Captain. "Legolas told me you were coming, and he asked me to help you choose something for tonight." She seemed very excited to have this current job. I got the feeling that she didn't get the chance to dress Legolas very often. By the looks of the clothes she'd picked, I could tell she had very extravagant taste. Legolas dressed in simple tunic and leggings, only wearing his royal garb when the occasion called for it.

"They are all very lavish, maybe too much for someone like me," I gestured to the clothes.

"Don't be ridiculous. You are a guest of Mirkwood, and of the Prince, no less. Only the finest will do. Anything strike your fancy?"

I looked at the clothes. Considering them for a moment. There were three outfits, each one very different. The first was a beautiful green tunic with white silk leaves embroidered upon the front. They flowed from the shoulders and ran down to the waist. It had a high collar, just like the style Legolas always wore. It looked good on Legolas' long smooth neck, but I wasn't sure it would look good on me. Dark green leggings and brown boots finished the look.

The other two didn't seem to do much for me. They were basic leggings and tunic, one silver, one dark grey. The silver one had a floor length coat in a very light green, silk embroidery upon the entire coat with gold leaves. Very rich, very beautiful, but very royal in appearance. The other one, the dark grey, shimmered in the lamp light. The coat for that outfit was a rich shade of red, something expensive and velvety. I loved the color, but again, it was a bit over the top for my taste.

"I think I like the green one the best," I decided.

The servant smiled, satisfied with my choice. "That one is my favorite. Shall I help you dress?"

"No thank you. I believe I can handle this myself."

She bowed and went to the door. "You may get dressed here. The Prince will be back shortly. He'll be very pleased with your choice." She left, closing the door behind her.

It was still odd to be so open and free. The servant girl never batted an eye at the thought of Legolas and I going to the dance together. At least, I assumed we were. What if I was wrong? What if the people of Mirkwood did not want to see Legolas enter the hall with an ellon upon his arm? Maybe they were expecting an elleth. In Lothlórien, it would never have been acceptable for me to walk in with another male in that fashion.

I pushed the thoughts aside and dressed. Just as I was finishing up, Legolas came in, still wearing his clothes from this morning. "Busy day?" I asked comfortably, like a spouse coming home after a long day of work.

"When is it not?" he answered in a similar fashion. He paused to look me over from head to feet. "You look quite handsome."

"Thank you," I smiled confidently.

"I can't wait to get you out of it already," he said in an unexpected lust filled growl.

"Well, we can always skip the festivities and get straight to–"

"Dance first," Legolas interrupted. "Really, Rúmil, there is nothing to fret about." He approached and helped me tighten the brown laces on the front of the tunic, and the silver clasp at the collar.

"So, what happens at these dances in Mirkwood? Do we show up with an elleth on our arm to make a good impression?" I asked, tugging at the collar. I could already tell that this was going to be uncomfortable. I didn't like the way it rubbed against the front of my neck.

"Only if you wish to invite an elleth to go with you," Legolas said, inspecting me. "Your hair."

"What about it?" I began to complain.

"No braids tonight. Wear it loose, and only tie back the sides," he suggested. I went to a mirror and table on the other side of the room and he followed me. "Here, let me," he offered, picking up a comb.

I sat down and let him do my hair. His fingers were gentle and deliberate as they ran through my silver strands. I smiled and huffed a laugh. "I don't think anyone has ever combed my hair for me before."

"Not even your mother?"

"Well, besides her, and that was when I was just an elfling." I closed my eyes and enjoyed the pampering.

"You have gorgeous hair, like the finest silver silk thread," he complimented. Legolas gathered it at the sides and brought it to the back, finishing it with a silver barrette shaped like . . . "A mallorn leaf?"

"Yes, a gift from your brother, actually, the first time he came here."

That made me slightly uneasy. I couldn't picture Haldir giving gifts, especially something as personal as a clasp for one's hair. "I didn't know he showered you with gifts," I said a little bitterly.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say showered." Legolas' lips thinned into a straight line, and his eyes narrowed. "Are you jealous?" he accused.

"Of course not," I answered on the defensive, but suddenly I was overwhelmed to know exactly what might have transpired between Legolas and Haldir. "You and my brother … did you ever …"

"Make mad love to each other?" Legolas finished for me, but a bit more colorfully that I would have put it. He laughed in a way that made me nervous and not but a little put out.

"Sweet Eru, you did!" I shouted, disgusted by the thought. "And all this time, you never bothered to tell me that you and Haldir–" I stopped as he burst into laughter.

"Oh Rúmil, you should have seen your face just now. No, of course I didn't sleep with your brother. What do you take me for? Do you think I'd jump into bed with any outsider to visit Mirkwood? Ease your perverted mine. I never even made the slightest pass at Haldir. Not my type. Too stuffy for my taste."

That was a relief. The thought that Haldir and I had slept with the same person made my stomach do flips. "Although," he continued, and I cringed. "I believe he might have met someone while he was here. I don't know who, though. Haldir never did conform to our ways here in Mirkwood. He kept his secret, and no one ever inquired about it."

"Was that why Haldir came here so many times?" I wondered aloud.

"With Haldir, it was always work first, but I guess you already know that. He came with the sole purpose of convincing my father to join Lothlórien and fight the dark evils of Dol Guldur. Any extracurricular activities he might have engaged in were his own business, and he didn't want anyone else to know. I don't think he ever truly trusted the Wood elves. Perhaps he thought we might use it against him. We would never do that, of course. Mirkwood has very strict rules about that. We take care of our own realm, and we don't get involved in the concerns of outsiders or other realms."

"That's good to know," I muttered, and Legolas gave me a questioning look.

"Do you think I would tell anyone from Lothlórien about us?" He seemed a little annoyed.

"No, not you, but … the thought has crossed my mind. There's your father, who I don't think likes me all that much. And Corweth and I have bumped heads more than a few times."

Legolas gave me a hard glare and stood in front of me to make sure he had my full attention. "We are not like that here. We would never do something like that, no matter whether you got along with someone or not. While within Mirkwood, we are responsible for our own, and our guests. Outside of the kingdom, we might abide by the rules of the realm we are in, but we do not divulge anything about our homeland, and that includes our visitors." He looked angry and he sounded offended.

"And you have to understand that where I come from, there are those who would do anything to get ahead, and that includes using such information to better themselves," I challenged. "I've always had to be on the defensive, and especially after joining the army. I think about these sort of things because I must constantly be aware."

Legolas just stood there, shaking his head slowly back and forth. "I don't know how you can live like that, Rúmil."

"I have no other choice. I don't have the freedom that you have here. But regardless, it is my begetting place, and they are my people. I love my home, and in return, I must follow the rules."

His face softened and he cupped my face in his palm. I couldn't help see pity flash across his eyes, gone with a single blink. Legolas smiled warmly, changing as quickly as a flint strike. "Tonight, you will not have to worry about any of that. You are going with me, as my guest, and they will all be jealous, male and female alike. As he spoke, he adjusted my collar, and smoothed the front with the palm of his hand. "This looks good on you. A little extra room across the chest, but it fits you well enough," he teased.

"Arse," I mumbled with a smile. "Admit it. You know it looks better on me," I jested in return.

"Now who's the arse," he said, and slapped me hard in the place he just mentioned.

"Oh," I mocked surprise. "Is this something I should look forward to when we return to my room?" I let go the tension of the previous moment, turning to something more playful.

"Maybe … if we make it that far. I just might have to steal you away in some alcove and have my way with you."

"Promise?" I said in a wanton manner.

His hands grasped my waist, pulling me into his chest as he kissed me, and I melted into him. It didn't take much. Legolas knew how to work me into a frenzy with only a look or a kiss. When he pulled away, he nuzzled my ear, taking the lobe in his teeth and biting gently. "You need to remember where you are, Rúmil. If I want to do this to you tonight, I will … in front of everyone, and especially when the attention is on us." His warm breath glided around to the back of my neck, making my spine tingle. "Some might be jealous. Some might envy you for capturing the attention of their Prince. For all I know, we might inspire a few to give into their carnal desires. But no one will ever tell us we cannot show our affection for each other. No one will say it is unacceptable behavior and cast us out. Here, we live how we want to live. We love who we want to love. And as long as you are a guest, you will be treated as one of our own. Do I make myself clear?"

I nodded in reply, but I couldn't help question something he said, one word in particular … love. I was fairly sure he was only using it as an example, and not admitting to anything. Still, it scared me a bit to hear him say it. A year ago, I would have said that I'd never love another after Túron. Legolas was making me question that. At the same time, I feared the curse that seemed to follow me. If I even thought that I loved Legolas, I was afraid it would end, just like it had in the past.

But what if he loved me? Could I deny him, tell him we mustn't and keep things as they were between us? Could we just see each other every now and again, and ravish each other until I had to leave? That could be enough, couldn't it? And if I never admitted anything beyond desire for him, I might beat the curse.

* * *

><p>A pair of guards opened the tall wooden doors of the main hall, and Legolas and I walked in side by side. All eyes were upon us as we made our way along the center aisle to the dance floor. Legolas was dressed in his finest, all sparkling in silver, from his undershirt to his floor length coat, and even his knee high boots. And upon his head he wore a mithril circlet with a single teardrop shaped emerald. His hair was like mine, the sides pulled back, held in place by the circlet instead of a hair clasp like mine. He was absolutely gorgeous, the coat form fitting at the waist and shoulders, accentuating his archer body.<p>

Instead of a coat, I opted for a cape, dark green velvet, lined in silver. It billowed out as I walked, the finely made tunic showing underneath. We were a sight, Legolas and me, all green and silver, fair haired and tall, and I had to admit that we made a handsome couple.

We were announced by our rightful names, Prince Legolas of the Woodland realm and Captain Rúmil of Lothlórien, two names that I'm sure most would never have thought to hear in the same sentence. When we were approaching the dance floor, two servants came out, one taking Legolas' coat, the other taking my cape. Then he turned to me, and I to him. We bowed, hand over heart, and then he took my elbow, leading me to the dance floor. As soon as our feet touched the special area, the musicians started playing a lovely, but slow tune. I didn't realize at first, but the song was something very familiar to me. It was the same song I'd heard many times at the dances I had attended in Lothlórien. I looked at Legolas and he smiled.

"In honor of our guest," he said. "A song from your home."

"And do you know the dance that accompanies this song?" I asked in a haughty manner, for surely he didn't know, but I would teach him. To my amazement, Legolas backed away from me and took a leg, the first step of the dance. Usually, his partner would be an elleth, and she would answer with a curtsy, and I realized that I would have to alter a few of the steps.

"Of course I know it, Rúmil. Part of my responsibilities as Prince, you see. I must know all the elvish dances," he said as he went into the next part, offering me his arm. I took it and we walked in a tight circle, our eyes locked on each other. He pulled me to him and whispered in my ear. "I won't lead the whole dance. We'll share. It will look more natural that way."

"That's what I was thinking," I said.

"We seem to do that a lot, don't you think?" We separated, but held each other at the wrist. The next move would be for the male to pull the female back to him, but Legolas had hesitated. It was my turn to lead.

"I've noticed," I answered, and drew him to me until our chests nearly touched. He did not turn around, which was what the elleth would have done, but Legolas wanted us to stay face to face. I thought he was challenging me, especially knowing how uncomfortable I was.

"It is not a common thing to happen, two separate entities sharing thoughts and moves, knowing what the other will do or say before it happens." As he spoke we continued with the dance, carefully stepping side by side, changing direction, coming apart and then drawing back together.

"I do feel very at ease with you," I commented, and we were face to face again, only a hair's width between our lips.

His eyes burned like blue flames, heating me deep within. "And the sex is phenomenal."

"The best part," I said, feeling myself be seduced by him. I was like the moth who was scorched by the flame, drawn in by temptation only to be led to its downfall. But my moth was safely contained by the glass dome of my heart.

"And yet," he started, and I could hear it in his tone.

"Legolas, you know I cannot stay," I said to keep the conversation away from the subject.

"What if things were different? What choice would you make?" he asked.

I thought about that for a moment. "That's a very big 'what if'. If I wasn't a soldier? If I didn't have my brothers to get back to? If I didn't have responsibilities to my men?"

"If you thought there was a chance for you and me," he said, surprising me.

"Legolas–" I started, my voice low.

"All this time I've not said a thing about it," he interrupted. "I've let it be, let us enjoy what we have so far, but I cannot keep this to myself anymore."

"Please don't," I begged, but he ignored me.

"You can't deny the fact that we are good together, Rúmil. I know you've felt it, but you won't admit to it, not aloud." The music played on and our dance steps kept us close together. "Look around you. Do you see anyone scowling with disapproval?"

I started to turn my attention to Thranduil, but Legolas captured me by the chin to keep me from doing it. "He doesn't count," he said with a smile.

"Alright, I will admit to being wrong about my initial evaluation of Mirkwood and its people. And I was wrong about its Prince," I jostled.

"Why, how did you perceive me to be?" He seemed genuinely interested now.

"Pompous, spoiled, arrogant … shall I continue?"

"What in the name of the Valar do they teach you about Wood elves in Lothlórien?" he said, offended.

"But none of it is true," I continued. "Being here has been a freeing experience. Just look at us, dancing in front of all these onlookers."

"It will always be like this, but you'll go home and revert back to your old ways," he disappointedly said.

"I don't have a choice," I argued. "You offered to be my sanctuary, and right now, that's all I can afford."

The music was finally ending. Legolas and I bowed as our final dance step, and the onlookers clapped, a few of them shouting something I couldn't understand. Legolas ignored the crowd, gazing at me as though we were alone. He leaned into me, tilting my head back, his eyes drilling into me. "Alright then, I'll take that if you'll not give me anything more, but I have to tell you–"

I didn't want to hear him say what I was sure he was going to say. There was only one way to stop him, so I kissed him. I kissed the Prince of Mirkwood in front of his warriors, his friends, his father, and I didn't care what any of them might think about it. The applause grew louder with a few shouts and whistles. I could never have done this in Lothlórien, although, there were times I wish I could have. I wish I could have proclaimed my feelings for Túron without judgment or worry. Perhaps we would still be together if I could have done that.

Legolas pulled away, his eyes settling on mine, and I knew the remnants of my thoughts of Túron were visible. But he smiled anyways, that warm embracing smile that said he would let me in if I asked. All I had to do was ask, but I couldn't. And the niggling in the back of my mind wriggled free, the one that said 'just think about it'. And I felt a slight chink upon my heart, the moth hitting glass, trying to get loose, the flame becoming irresistible. And I realized that the glass might not be strong enough to contain it.

The music started again, this time a much livelier tune, and the dance floor became crowded. Legolas and I took our leave, the first dance being out of the way now. He walked me to a table set up for us. We relaxed into our chairs as a servant rushed over with two goblets of wine and a plate of cheese and bread. Legolas took the cups from her, handed one to me, and we held them up in a toast. "To a beautiful evening that I wish would never end," he said, eyes smoldering with such vibrancy, I thought I might drown in their blue depths.

"I'll admit, I'm not as anxious to leave as I once was," I told him honestly.

"Glad to know you are tempted at least. I was beginning to think you were made of stone," he jested.

"Glass, actually," I replied, telling my secret thoughts. He just stared at me, the flickering of a nearby lantern playing with is handsome features. "Much easier to break."

"Perhaps, but usually glass contains more powerful emotions. Break the glass and all of that pours out at once. It can be detrimental," he explained. "One can safely chip away at stone, but glass must be handled differently."

Sometimes Legolas said things that made complete sense to me. He could read me so well at times. He understood my fragilities, and he was so gentle with it. He hardly knew my whole story, only the dramatic bits and pieces that I chose to tell him. Yet he could take what little information I gave him, search me with those powerful eyes, and suddenly he saw what was real. He did this now, as we sat at our table, enjoying our wine. No one ever read me so thoroughly. I was naked before him, displaying all the scars and ugliness, the parts of my life that not even Túron had truly seen.

"Such a tortured soul you have," Legolas said, but not with pity. It was almost a challenge, the way he said it, as though he could end the punishment I placed upon myself. "Not here, though. Here, you are like a child just discovering all the wonderful things life has to offer. I'm glad, Rúmil. I'm happy you can step out of that role." He smirked and gave a wink.

The rest of the evening was simply intoxicating. We ate and drank, we danced some more, we mingled with other guests, and not once did I feel intimidated or self-conscious. No one gave me a critical eye, and I thought I'd have a few, especially stealing the attentions of their Prince for the evening. I think they saw how happy he was, and they were glad for it. And for the first time in a long time, I was happy too … unconcerned and relaxed, free to be me. It felt so natural, and I forgot about the world outside of the underground palace. Whatever was happening above ground was not important tonight. I began to see why Thranduil chose to live like this. It was easy to lose yourself when you didn't look past your own door. But I knew the truth. I knew what was happening out there, and I knew I couldn't ignore it.

"There's that look again," Legolas said from across the table. We had just finished dancing and sat for a rest and some refreshment. "The war will be there when you get home, Rúmil. Don't bring it here, not tonight."

"I know, I can't help it sometimes. It hits from time to time, just like when I hear the trees whispering."

"You have some Teleri in your blood," he said, interested in my anomaly.

"If I do, I don't know from whom it came from. Neither of my brothers have the ability, and only a very few in Lothlórien can. I've never made a big deal out of it. It just happens from time to time, and when it does, I can't help but listen," I explained.

"That makes sense. It explains why we seem so synchronized at times. I have it too. A good number of Wood elves do, although there are some that don't. Tell me, when was your first experience?" he asked excitedly.

I shook my head as I thought about it. "I … I don't know. I don't remember. It just seems that I've always done it. It's very natural to me. I've never questioned it or given it much thought." While I spoke, a servant brought our meal, roast pheasant and vegetables. Legolas smiled up at her and winked, and the servant girl blushed before she left us.

"You are such a flirt," I commented.

"What?" he said. "I was merely showing my appreciation for her services."

"You don't know you do it, do you?" I laughed.

"Perhaps you'll indulge me then," he challenged.

"It's not what you say, but how you say it. And it's not what you do, but how you do it. Take her, for example."

"I would, but I've got my eye on something much more fulfilling tonight," he said wantonly.

"Now there, that's obvious flirting," I went on, ignoring his comment, though my body was responding with tingling sensations prickling my skin. "But when she brought the tray of food, you winked."

"And?" he said, drawing the word out long.

"You could have just thanked her, smiled, nodded your head, but you winked. That is a very personalized gesture. Did you not see the rosy bloom of her cheeks when you did that?"

"Should I not have done it?" he asked, as though he was taking a lesson in proper etiquette.

"No, I think your people expect it from you. I just think it's adorable that you don't realize how admired you are." I pinched a bit of meat from my roast quail and popped it in my mouth.

"Right now, I only care what you think," he responded, reaching for my hand and sucking the juices from my finger. His tongue was doing things that promised a more accurate performance later. "So what _do_ you think, Rúmil?"

I watched his tongue travel across his parted lips, moving slow and deliberate, my mind conjuring up images of that mouth in more useful places. "I think if you keep this up, you'll undo me right here."

He gave a deviant laugh that made my toes curl in my borrowed boots. "I apologize. I know not what affect I have you."

"Arse," I laughed and stood. "Now, I must relieve myself. If you'll excuse me." Actually, I was fine, but I needed a moment away from him. Legolas was just too much, and my body needed a minute to regulate itself. It was difficult to explain how his words could charm me so easily. His potent stares could make my blood pulse without need of my heart. And his touch … ai … it was toxic for sure. He could poison me with his lust and I would die a sated death over and over. That's what it was like to be with Legolas … always intense.

They had an ingenious design for their privy. It was a private room, simple in look, just stone walls and a trench carved into the floor at the back of the room. Water flowed constantly through the trench. Males could stand and urinate, and the water would carry the waste somewhere, leaving the room free of offending odors and such. It was actually very clean in the privy; most were places that one did not want to spend any more time in then they had to. I'd asked about it earlier, and found out that the water emptied somewhere deep beneath the cave systems. It was somehow filtered as it traveled through rocks and gravel. There was no need for digging holes or emptying buckets as we did in Lothlórien. Latrine duty was a nasty business. But here, nature took care of it.

Hearing the running water, it stimulated me, and I decided to take advantage of the privy after all. Just as I finished, I heard soft footsteps come into the room. It was not uncommon for two or three males to use the room at the same time. It was a fairly generous room. I turned to leave and give a congenial nod to the next guest of the wash room, and found Legolas waiting for me.

"Oh, do you need to–" I started, but before I could finish, he grabbed me, pushing me up against the wall.

"I need you, Rúmil. I can't wait another moment," he demanded.

"Here? In the watershed?" I said with slight disgust.

"Would you rather I throw you over our table and have my way with you in front of everyone?" he jested, his hands already fumbling with the leather strands of my leggings.

"Well, it would cause quite a few heads to turn." I didn't stop him from his current mission, and before long, he had my ties undone, the flaps of my pants open and my cock in his hand. "Or we can just do it here," I breathed as he brought me standing in only a couple strokes. "By the gods, how do you do this to me?"

"Because I know you. I know where to touch you to get a quick reaction. I know just how deep to shove my cock and make you come." His voice was like satin, just as I remembered it when I first heard it, and it had affected me then too.

I didn't remember moving, but found my hands plunging into his open leggings, pulling him out, kneading him in my hand. He pressed his body against mine and our cocks rubbed together. Nothing felt better than this, and we fit together perfectly.

"Turn around," he demanded, pushing me against the wall. I felt the cold stone on my cheek, my pants being pushed down, and the hot flesh of his hips against my arse. Legolas' breath was warm where it washed against the back of my neck. "I'm already so close, Rúmil. You make me mad with lust."

I wasted no time and braced my hands against the wall. I wriggled one leg free of my leggings, pushed my hips back, spread my legs, and offered myself to him. "You always make it good, Legolas."

First, he spread me with his fingers, wet with his saliva, preparing me in the process. His other hand came around my hip and kneaded my hardened cock, stroking me over my entire length. Then I felt him rest against my opening, teasing me with his head. His hand stroked faster, and I felt my ballocks tightened.

"Gonna take you deep and fast, just the way you like it," he whispered drunkenly against my neck, his tongue traveling over my heated skin, up to my ear where he lightly bit the tips.

"Take me now," I whimpered, not knowing my own pleading desperate voice.

"You want it?" he tortured me.

"Yes."

"All of it?"

"Yes … please … do it … hurry," I pleaded.

"And so do I," he said as he entered me all at once. "Feels … so good … Rúmil … so tight … so … hot … so … oh sweet gods, Rúmil."

"Yes, Legolas … yes … so … oh yeah … oh … yeah . . ."

It was over so fast, but the tremor that traveled throughout my body lasted for an eternity. Legolas went rigid, holding himself deep, warmth purling within me. And I was spent, still wrapped in his fingers, now sticky and wet. He pulled me away from the wall and to his chest, still buried and pulsating with the last remnants. He laid gentle kisses against my ear. "I will miss this when you leave." He pulled me tighter against him. "I'll miss everything about you. I just can't help myself. We are so complete together. I lose myself when I'm with you."

"I was lost from the moment I looked into your eyes," I admitted. What was I saying? I couldn't do this, could I? Chink … Chink … the moth was desperate to escape. The glass had cracked, and it had weakened. The flame was too bright to ignore. "I don't want to be here anymore. Take me to your room, or come to mine. I just want you to myself."

"Alright, let's go. We stayed long enough. You'll come to my room and I'll take care of you all night long." As he spoke, he laced up my leggings and straightened my tunic. "Tonight you are mine, all mine, because the dawn will take you from me."

"The dawn?" I asked.

He nodded, looking at the floor. "The scouts have returned. No sign of orcs. Father has given permission for you to travel as early as the morning. I was going to tell you, but I wanted us to enjoy the festivities. I wanted you to know the freedom of life here without thinking about your duties to your home. I'm sorry. I should not have kept it from you."

He sounded so sad, but I was not angry in the least. I cupped my hand to his face, my thumb rubbing his cheek. "I'm glad you didn't tell me. And yes, it was more enjoyable not knowing. But don't think that my knowledge of this now will keep me from enjoying the rest of our evening together. Let's go."

We navigated the halls, but we made one quick stop before going to his private chamber, and found ourselves in the kitchen, our stomachs rumbling. Legolas climbed the shelves in search of the basket of goodies that the cook, Reveth, always left for him. I watched him from below, the flex of his shoulders, the strain of his thighs. He was beautifully handsome and sexy, a thorough lover, kind of heart, wild and untamable, and for now he was mine and I was his. I silently cursed my eager heart, for I was beginning to feel it … the stirrings of something much more than lust. Chink, went the moth. The glass dome cracked again, and I feared what would happen if it suddenly shattered. Like Legolas said, all of that emotion pouring out at once . . . I'd already loved once and lost. I had built that glass dome for a reason. Love never turned out well for me. It ruined so much in the past. Still . . .

Legolas came down from the shelves, holding the contents of the basket, a loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese. I remembered his story about coming here as an elfling, and I could see that eternal youth in his eyes now. He looked so content, and the smile he gave me was genuine and natural. I sighed and he kissed me, and it was as though we'd always known each other, like we had done this exact thing a thousand times before. No one had ever made me feel like this, so easily accepted and comfortable in my own skin, and I wasn't sure anyone but Legolas ever would.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

The festivities must have ended hours ago, but Legolas and I weren't there for the conclusion. We left long before the musicians played their last song, before the last of the wine was poured, or the tables were cleared. While the guests finished out their evening with congratulations to the warriors for their brave and courageous contributions to the defeat of the orcs at the river, Legolas and I were within his private chambers, making love, exploring our limits yet again. Thranduil would be disappointed that his son did not stay to the end, but Legolas didn't care what he thought, and neither did I.

I was a boat adrift in the arms of the sea. Legolas made love to me like the crashing tide, rising and falling, tumbling upon each other, drowning in passion, coming up for air just long enough to fill our lungs, and then repeating the process all over again.

The last time was different, though, and it changed everything between us. He held me beneath him, my legs wrapped around his waist, my body filled and stretched, his face buried in my neck, whispering upon my heated skin how good it felt, how good we were together, how he wished the night would never end. He pushed into me, into that one place that took me to the stars, lights bursting behind my closed eyes, and as he spilled his warmth, he said it. He said what I had managed to avoid hearing up until now. "Rúmil, I love you." And then he collapsed onto me, exhausted, body going limp, covering me like armor protects its warrior. He didn't move, and for a split second, I thought he died. We had been rather adventurous throughout the night, and I know my own heart felt like it had stopped beating a time or two. But he was only catching his breath, and he pulled from me, coming to rest at my side. Our bodies were slick with sweat and his hair stuck to his face so that I couldn't see his expression.

We were silent for a long time, resting, coming to our senses. I felt like my tongue had been cut out. I couldn't reply to his admission. All I felt was the regret of not being able to say anything. The glass dome around my heart had a few more cracks in it than it did before this day started. The moth inside had reinforced its wings, as though they were made of steel so sharp they could cut the glass.

Finally, Legolas turned towards me, head laying upon my chest, his leg draped across my thighs. "It's alright. You don't need to say anything. I'm not like you, Rúmil. I cannot keep things hidden inside. No Wood elf has ever had to do that, and I'll not be the first."

"I know," I said in barely a whisper. "It's one of the things I like best about you. But you must know what it does to me to hear you say it."

"I already know what it does to you. I felt you tense and cringe as I said it. I feel you protecting yourself from me. What happened, Rúmil? What has happened to you that you'll shut out your heart to protect your soul and avoid me?"

I huffed a laugh as I thought of the all too simple explanation. "I became a soldier."

"That's not it, and you know it. You think you're the first soldier of Lothlórien or Imladris to have feelings for other ellyn, to live a secret life separate from your military one? Your brother does it, and he's a March warden. And look at you, Rúmil, Captain in the Northern Guard of Lothlórien, largest of the guard, leader of the deadliest and most successful archery regiment known to any elven realm. You can't tell me you don't know how to balance the two lives you live. No … something happened, something more than what you have shared with me. Will you tell me?"

This was it. This was that moment when the whole truth came out, when he would tell me it didn't matter, and that he loved me anyways. And I knew the truth in my heart, that I would confess the same to him, because I couldn't deny it any longer. I loved him too. But I couldn't say the words for fear of my eternal curse. I could never have a normal life.

"I … I can't love you, for fear of losing you," I admitted.

He gave a nervous laugh, his breath washing across my chest. "You won't lose me, Rúmil. I'll always be here."

"It's not that, Legolas. You see, every time I've admitted my feelings for someone, they have disappeared from my life. And so, I cannot allow myself to love you."

"Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?" I could hear the smile in his voice. But when he sat up and looked into my eyes, he saw that I was serious. "You don't actually believe that, do you?"

"It's already happened twice. Why should things be any different with you?" I justified. "Can't we just keep things as they are now? This is nice. This is good. I can visit Mirkwood and see you, and we'll spend our time like this." I gestured to the bed.

"Rúmil, as much as I like sharing a bed with you, I want something more. I know this is not ideal, the fact that you live in Lórien and I live here, but I thought we could make it work. You'll not be in danger of discovery, and when you're here, you are free to be yourself. And then, perhaps someday, we might be able to be together more often, or all the time. Who knows what the future will bring."

I turned my eyes from his and looked towards the door. "I've tried to make things work before. It never turns out very well. The fact is, I chose this life. I chose to become a soldier, and I knew damn well what all that entailed. I thought I could have it all, when I met Túron, and now I will never see him again. Then I came here, met you and … and I find myself thinking I can make it work again. But I know it will all turn to shit. It always does. If we keep things as they are right now, then maybe I won't lose you. If I give in to my heart, I fear I'll never be allowed to return to Mirkwood for whatever kind of reason that happens to interfere. I want to come back. I am so comfortable here. I'm comfortable with you, the way it is now."

Legolas raised himself up, and swung his legs over the edge of his bed. His back was to me, and his head hung low. I looked at his back, the muscles in his shoulders tensing, his long hair flowing down his spine. I reached out to touch him, but he stood before my fingers found him. He grabbed his robe rather roughly from the foot of the bed, and slipped into it. I could tell that he was angry, and I felt horrible. I'd done this to him. He had just confessed his love for me, and at such an intense and intimate time, and I couldn't return the feelings.

"Legolas, please … I'm–"

"No," he interrupted, his voice low and angered. He glanced over his shoulder to the bed, but he did not look directly at me. His shoulders slumped and he sighed deeply. "No," he said again, but this time his voice came out soft and airy. "Don't say anything more about it. I should have known better. It was my fault. I let myself get in too deep." He finally turned to me, and he was partially smiling, but it went no further than the corners of his mouth. His eyes were empty, emotionless. He ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. "My father warned me, but I didn't listen. I thought this was … I thought you and I were . . ."

"Please, don't do this. You said I didn't have to answer. You said you understood," I begged. I was sitting on the bed with my knees tucked under me, the silk sheet pulled around my torso.

"I know and I thought I did, but–" His words trailed off and he tied the belt of his robe.

"Don't be like all the rest," I pleaded, and he paused to hear my words. "I've been down this road so many times, and each time ends like this. But we have a chance at something good here, Legolas, iaun nín. I've never had a place to go where I could have a normal life, even a temporary place like Mirkwood. And I've never met anyone like you, or felt such a connection. I don't want this to end, not permanently."

I could feel the pain that showed in his eyes. I could give him anything, but I couldn't say that one word, and I know he wanted to hear it badly. Legolas stood in the center of the room, pulling the robe tighter around him. His hand came up to the back of his neck, and he looked at his clothes scattered across the floor. His eyes settled on me, confused and dazed.

"Say something, anything," I begged again.

His lips parted as he took a breath. I thought he had changed his mind, that he was willing to make this work, to give me more time. I could almost hear the words come out of his mouth and I started to get off the bed and go to him. When I moved, he pulled back, lips closing into a tight line. He looked back to his clothes and picked up his leggings and undershirt. "It's going to be daylight soon, and you'll need to get going early." He turned back to me, all sadness gone from his eyes, admiration contained, not showing on his face anymore. "You'll need to see my father one more time before departing. I'll go with you, but I need a bath first. I'm just going down to the bathing room."

"Well, I'll go with you," I offered.

"No," he said quickly, smiling after his rushed answer. "Don't get up yet. There is still time. I've just got some business to tend to early. I'll send for you when it's time, alright?" He came over to the bed to get his boots.

"But–" I started. Legolas bent down and silenced me with a kiss. His lips were still warm and firm, but something was missing. The passion was gone. He released me and captured me, our eyes locking.

"I've always been too eager." He huffed a laugh, his thumb brushing my cheek. "You heard my father." He kissed me again, quickly this time. "Let's not spoil our wonderful evening."

"What about us?" I asked.

"We'll see each other on the battle field, right?"

"And afterwards, when everything has settled, I'll come back to visit you," I promised.

He smiled and licked his lips, eyes darting to my mouth. "I'd like that."

"Really?" I whispered.

"Really," Legolas nodded. I couldn't help think that the air was not completely clear between us. Perhaps he just needed some time.

* * *

><p>I crossed the stone bridge to approach King Thranduil, who was sitting upon his throne. Legolas walked beside me. I hadn't seen him since he left his bedroom this morning. He sent a servant to retrieve me. I thought I might not see him again before I left, but he was waiting at the entrance to the main hall. He smiled when he saw me, and some of the magic was back, but now it was muted with caution. Things weren't the same between us anymore, and it was my fault.<p>

"Good morning, Father," Legolas said as we finished crossing the bridge. We stopped before the dais.

Thranduil crossed his legs, rested his hands upon the arms of his throne and tilted his head up in greeting. "And how are you this morning?"

"I am well," Legolas answered tersely.

Thranduil's eyes flicked to me then to Legolas, and back to me. "I assume you are ready to leave us today?" he asked.

"Yes, it is time that I made my way home. We have a war to prepare for."

Thranduil hesitated. I think he was waiting for Legolas to say something, but when he didn't, the King continued.

"My sentries are waiting for you at the main gates. They will escort you out of the Rhovanion. I've sent word to Lothlórien. They'll be expecting you." He reached his hand down alongside his chair, and pulled out a roll of parchment, sealed with his signet impressed into the wax, a beech tree. Thranduil held it out to me and I approached the throne, taking it from him. I held the rolled parchment in my fingers, as though it was made of hot coals. "We will await word from Lothlórien, and meet in battle," he said.

I tucked the paper inside my tunic. Then I bowed to the King. "May the Valar protect your people and mine. Dol Guldur will fall, and our realms will know peace one day."

Thranduil nodded slowly, eyes closing as he did. I could tell he was not keen with the situation, but he knew it was the right thing to do.

My eyes darted to my side where Legolas stood. I turned to him, our eyes meeting once again. I smiled. "Well, I guess we'll meet again in battle."

Legolas smiled and bowed, but his father interrupted our farewell. "I'm afraid Legolas will not be going to Dol Guldur," he announced.

Legolas stood straight, eyeing his father. "You said I could fight again. You said I would lead my regiment to–"

"I know what I said, but something more important has happened," Thranduil interrupted. He glanced towards me, as though he was considering whether or not he should have this conversation in my presence. It seemed rather urgent though, and he continued. "We have received word from Lord Elrond of Imladris."

Legolas and I looked at each other before giving the King our undivided attention. I had no idea what this could be about. Imladris was not part of the war. They were a very small community, well hidden in a valley of waterfalls and rivers, far from Dol Guldur and the Rhovanion. Rivendell was the last safe haven for the elves. Certainly they had not been breached. But Lothlórien had, according to Thranduil, and that should never have happened.

The King continued. "A representative from every realm and every race are being called to attend a special gathering, a secret meeting in Rivendell. Gondor has answered, even the dwarves are sending someone. Lothlórien need not attend, since Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond are in constant communication. Mirkwood has been summoned to represent the elves as well as others here in the north." Thranduil paused and watched Legolas carefully. "Mithrandir will be there. He is expecting us to send the prisoner."

I could feel Legolas cringe beside me. He kept himself together though, and confronted his father. "I am needed in the war."

"This is your mess, Legolas. You must go and deliver the news," Thranduil insisted.

"Then send a messenger. I am a warrior, and my troops expect me to help lead them into battle," Legolas argued.

"You were responsible for allowing the prisoner out of his cell, and in turn you are responsible for his kidnapping." Thranduil's voice boomed through the cavernous room. "You will go and represent Mirkwood, and that is final. Gather your things. You're leaving with Rúmil and the sentries."

I dared a look at Legolas, daggers shooting from his lovely eyes. Suddenly, our argument from earlier seemed insignificant compared to this new revelation. I should have known that Thranduil would find a way to keep Legolas from doing what he did best. I watched the stand-off between father and son, neither one moving, staring each other down. Who would move first?

Legolas took a deep breath, accepting his father's commands. His head came up pugnaciously, jaw set, lips in a tight line, but his eyes were like the blue flames that drew me to him in the first place, and the moth in my chest fluttered desperately … chink … chink. The glass around my heart wouldn't hold much longer.

"I will go, Father. I will represent our realm, and I will make amends with the wizard. I will tell Lord Elrond exactly what happened here, and I will take responsibility for my decisions," he said without emotion.

"Very good," Thranduil said satisfied.

I expected more of an argument from Legolas. I thought he gave in too easily. Why wouldn't he stand up for himself? He was needed much more in this war than in Rivendell. Thranduil had him doing the job of a messenger. There were plenty who could do that. Someone else could represent Mirkwood at this so called meeting.

Legolas turned to leave his father's throne, and he paused at my shoulder. "Come on. We're leaving soon," he said in a low growl. I followed him across the stone bridge and down one of the corridors. As we walked, neither one of us said a word. I almost had to run to keep up with him. I didn't know where we were going until we got there, and we found ourselves in the garden. We didn't stop at the door. We kept going, passing berry bushes, herb gardens, multiple vegetable plants and stalks of corn.

"Legolas, where are we going?" I called to him, but he didn't slow and he didn't answer.

The elves working in the gardens paused and looked up to see what was happening. Their eyes followed their Prince before they went back to what they were doing. I noticed how calm and celestial the gardeners seemed. They moved slowly and meticulously. I didn't think they were used to seeing Legolas here very often, but it didn't faze them at all, and they kept on with their work.

Eventually, we came to the grapevines. Rows and rows of green plants filled with big, round, red, juice filled grapes, ripe for the picking. They would be made into Mirkwood's finest wine, used for trading with the Northmen. I hurried my tread, catching up to Legolas, and I grasped his shoulder. "Legolas, stop." And he did. He just stood there, chest heaving from our fast pace, and he looked at the vines in front of him. "Why are we here?" I asked.

"This year's crops," Legolas said, his hand cupping one of the grape bunches. He picked one and popped it in his mouth. "The best one so far."

"Shouldn't we be preparing to leave?" I asked gently. "The sentries will be waiting for us."

He continued staring at the grapevines, hands at his sides, completely oblivious to everything around him. I waited by his side, hoping for a response. Had he changed his mind about going to Rivendell?

"My mother used to bring me here when I was just an elfling. She would help pick the ripe grapes with the gardeners. It was something she used to do with her mother when she was young. Father used to complain that she was a queen, and the queen did not do common work, but she ignored him and said it would be good for me to learn the importance of labor. She was determined to make sure I was well rounded, not just the son of a king who could have anything he wanted with the snap of his fingers." He picked another grape and handed it to me. I held it in my palm and examined it. "Go on," he urged. "Taste it. You'll not find any better than these. Mirkwood takes pride in its vineyards."

I put the grape in my mouth and chewed slowly. It was very good, full of sweet juice that burst over my taste buds. Legolas watched me as I ate the globular fruit with a kind of longing. I thought he might kiss me, but he restrained himself from the gesture and turned back to look at the vines. "This was the last place I saw my mother before she died," he admitted. I stopped chewing and swallowed what was in my mouth. Legolas was about to confess a very personal and private moment, and he would have my full attention. "It was right here. She was standing there, picking grapes. I was helping her. It was just another normal day. She was not in her usual joyful mood that day. I think that she and my father had some kind of argument, but I'll never really know. Anyways, she was very quiet, and that was out of the ordinary for her. I tried carrying the conversation, but I couldn't engage her. Finally, I gave up and settled on helping her pick grapes. After a long silence, she stopped what she was doing and sat on the ground. She pulled me to her. I can still feel her hands upon my arms, and see her pleading eyes looking up at me. 'Legolas,' she said, 'One day you will have to be on your own.' I didn't know what she meant by that and I asked her. 'You'll set out on a journey that might take you far from home,' she explained. I told her I could never leave Mirkwood, that it was my place to remain here as heir to the throne. She laughed lightly, but there was sadness in her voice. 'That's what your father would lead you to believe.' She never finished that thought, and I was confused for a very long time about it. 'Be your own person. Live your own life,' she said. 'There is a whole world out there, and there will be those who will look towards you for leadership.'" He paused from his story, and I moved closer to him, needing to feel his radiance.

"You will be a fine leader. You already are, Legolas. I saw that for myself when we fought the orcs at the river," I encouraged.

"And it felt good," he smiled, remembering how smoothly it went, how easily the elves gained their victory. "But I've realized something lately. I'm never going to find my own way as long as I'm in Mirkwood. My father will remain king until the last ship sails from Middle-earth, and he'll always feel the need to protect me, to hold me back and keep me from achieving my true potential. Why do you think he's sending me to Rivendell? It keeps me from going to Dol Guldur with the rest of my regiment."

"I have to admit, I think your father is making a mistake. We could really use your talents in this war. Yes, your troops will join in the fight, but you are their heart. You are the reason they fight so well. They do it to please you."

He nodded, but stayed silent. Then he peered at me over his shoulder. "Do you think she was right, my mother?"

I reached for his hand, tangling my fingers in his and squeezed. "She wanted the best for you, and she wanted you to be your best."

Legolas smiled, head hanging, bobbing in agreement. "I wish you could have met her."

"So do I, but I have a feeling she is never far from her son."

Legolas straightened his back and looked down the long row of vines, as though this would be his last time. This place was significant to him, and I was glad he brought me here. It gave me hope that we would see each other again, though now I knew not where. We were to meet in battle, but now, with Legolas going to Rivendell, I didn't think that would happen. It might be a very long time before I saw him again.

We left the garden and made our way back to the main hall. I went to my room to gather my things, and Legolas took care of a few errands and such. We agreed to meet at the gates where we would depart. It would be a long and treacherous journey out of the Rhovanion, but at least we would have this time together. We wouldn't part ways until we got to the village of Arstad, just outside the old forest. There I would, hopefully, retrieve my horse that I left with a man named Balkí, so long as he didn't trade her. Then I would head south, following the Anduin River all the way to Lothlórien. Legolas would continue west, crossing the Misty Mountains until he reached Imladris. We would be many miles apart, I thought, and it made my heart ache to think of it. How quickly I had gotten used to having him around, to waking up beside him. I thought I had done a better job at distancing myself from him. I knew the day would come when I would return home. I thought it might be a little difficult at first, but that I would go back to my old ways, old habits. I thought that the memory of Legolas and what all we had shared would be enough until I saw him again. I was finding that it wouldn't do, and that I was going to miss him so much that it would hurt. That was the last thing I needed. I had already experienced that when Túron left. I wasn't supposed to repeat the process with Legolas. Too many cracks in my glass dome.

* * *

><p>We made it out of the Rhovanion without any major incidents. Legolas and I, and the two sentries managed to stay among the canopy, traveling during the daylight hours when the spiders slept. We didn't see many orcs, and I wondered if that was a good thing or bad. No orcs meant no raids on Mirkwood. No orcs also meant that they were gathering elsewhere, and my best guess was Dol Guldur. Had they figured out that the elves were preparing to march there? If so, this war would be harder than I first thought. Only time would tell at this point. Once I got home, I would have a better idea of what was happening.<p>

Traveling through the Rhovanion left little time for Legolas and I to talk and clear the air. Ever since our argument, there was a constant tenseness between us. I could feel Legolas' anxiety over our final conversation, when he admitted his love for me, and I remained silent. I wish I could go back and change that moment in time, but the damage was done.

Arstad came into sight and we made our way there. Legolas and his men traded a few jewels, provided by King Thranduil, for horses. He told me he had enough to buy me one, too, just in case my grey mare wasn't there anymore. To my surprise, the horse trader, Balkí, still had my horse. She looked well taken care of, thank the Valar. I wouldn't have to break in a new horse.

Legolas went with me to the stables to examine the horses he was considering buying. I could hear the excitement in my grey's whinnying as I approached her stall. "What's her name?" he asked as we stood at the door.

"Suldal," I said, reaching out to let her smell my hand. She bobbed her head up and down, greeting me as if to say, where have you been?

Legolas ran his hand down along the side of her neck, and she seemed to lean into his touch. I knew how she felt. I'd done the same thing as he held me or cupped my face. It was so easy to trust him, to give in to him, and let his satiny words calm the tortured soul.

"I will miss you," I said aloud. I'd meant to say it to myself, but watching him, his gentle hands and sweet smile that made his eyes crinkle, I couldn't keep it inside. These would be our last moments alone. I'm sure he would want to be on his way to Rivendell, and the sentries had looked antsy.

Legolas shifted, his feet crunching the sweet smelling hay on the ground. "You'll become wrapped up in the war, and you won't have time for a spare thought of me." His smile never faded as he spoke, as though he was challenging me to say different.

"Well, yes, when I'm commanding or fighting, you'll be the furthest thing from my mind, but that's how it is, isn't it? It's in the quiet hours that I'll think about you, and wish you were with me."

He took a step towards me, but stopped, looking at the stable door, and someone interrupted our moment.

"There ye are. 'Twas wonderin' what happen'd to ye. Me horse came back without ye, and I thought somethin' bad came of ye." It was Balkí, the horse trader.

I rolled my eyes as I slowly turned to face him. "You told me that horse was good for traveling long distances and tight places, and at the first sound of trees creaking, I was thrown and your beast fled," I said angrily.

"Maybe he just didn't like ye," Balkí challenged. He was a tall man, broad through the shoulders, lots of facial hair to hide his expressions, but not his eyes. They darted back and forth, a sign that he was lying. My own eyes turned to slits, something I had seen the Wood elves do when they felt a need to intimidate. It seemed to be working. Balkí fidgeted, rubbing his hands together, turning his head back and forth as though he was looking for a way out. Finally he confessed. "Well, what was I suppos'd to do? You's were goin' in that forest. I wasn't about to let ye take one of my good horses just to feed the creatures that lurk in there. So I gave ye one I thought was dumb enough to take ye. Guess he was smarter than I thought." I put my hand on the hilt of the sword at my side, and Balkí finished that thought differently. "'Course it was unfortunate fer you."

"At least you didn't sell my grey," I mumbled, and Balkí's guilt ridden face turned red. I took another step closer to the man, my eyes dangerously slit this time. "You were going to sell her? I gave you good money to take care of her."

"Ye said you'd be back in a week, and when ye didn't show … well, it would cost me more to keep her than what you paid me," he confessed yet again. "But then I got that letter with the elf king's signet telling me to keep yer horse, along with a hefty sum to pay for the extra expenses. So I'd be takin' real good care of her fer ye. See? All plump and pretty like she was the day ye brought her here."

A letter with Thranduil's signet? I glanced over my shoulder, and Legolas gave a quirk of a smile and a wink. I should have known he would have thought of everything. He really did have it all planned out when I came to Mirkwood. I was never meant to leave quickly as I originally thought. I was glad for it too, but I wouldn't reveal that just yet.

"You've some friends in high places," Balkí said, seeing that my anger had subsided.

I kept my eyes upon Legolas. "Yes … yes I do." My expression softened.

"How full is the inn?" Legolas asked the horse trader, hunger growing in his blue orbs.

"It's fairly slow around here lately. I'd say there's plenty of room."

"Will you be so kind as to procure us two rooms? And make sure one of them is your finest available," Legolas commanded.

Balkí wrung his hands together. "It's not really my job to find housing for the guests . . ."

Legolas flipped him a gold coin, his predatory stare never leaving me. "I believe you can adjust your occupation just this once. You wouldn't want to inconvenience the Prince of Mirkwood, would you?" He blinked slowly, and when his eyes opened, they were turned to Balkí.

Instantly, the man knew who he was dealing with. "Aye, yer the elf king's son," he said with amazement. "You'll beg my pardon, my lord. Didn't know that I was speakin' with royalty. Of course, I'll set ye up right with the inn keeper."

"Thank you, Balkí. You're influence with the towns people is very helpful." Legolas sweetened the man with his smooth language, and Balkí left the stables, heading off towards the inn.

I raised a brow at Legolas, and he looked surprised. "I thought your mother taught you not to use your title as a way to get what you wanted," I berated.

Legolas shrugged his shoulders. "It is a useful tool at times. Besides, you're not in that much of a hurry to get home, are you? One more night in a comfortable bed?"

It was all well and fun, but I couldn't overlook the fact that he had acquired two rooms. I guess my disappointment showed for he came to me, his nose nuzzling behind my ear. "You're not leaving already, are you?"

"Well, no, not since you spent good money on a room for me," I said softly.

"For us," he corrected, his teeth lightly grazing the back of my ear.

"Oh." I was surprised by this. I thought he was eager for us to part, especially since . . .

"Well, my guards won't want to sleep out here with the horses," he conceded. "They can share the other room." He twisted a strand of my hair around his finger.

"I thought they were only escorting us to the forest's edge," I wondered.

"They were escorting _you_ that far, but my father's plans changed. Now he wants them to accompany me to Rivendell and back."

I huffed a quiet laugh. "Is he afraid you'll be ambushed?"

Legolas returned the laugh, his lips now trailing along my neck. "Perhaps he's afraid I won't return … willingly."

I pulled away from him to look into his eyes. I thought there was more truth to that statement than he led on. Just as I was about to question him, he stepped away and backed towards the door, smiling radiantly as he did when he was through with a conversation. "Our room won't be ready for a while, I'm sure. Let's get something to eat. I'm starved."

And just like that, I was in his hands, as malleable as clay, ready for him to mold me and shape me into anything he wanted me to be.

* * *

><p>I discovered that the two sentries sent along with us were Legolas' personal guards back at the palace. They weren't much for conversation, always on high alert to their surroundings. They looked similar to Legolas, long wheat colored hair tied in warrior braids, tall, handsome, but slightly more muscular. Legolas seemed to ignore their presence most of the time. I guess he was used to them being around, but I wasn't. They made me nervous, the way they were always there, watching, waiting for something to happen. What did they expect would happen in a small village like Arstad?<p>

"Half the time, I don't even know they're there," Legolas commented when I asked about them.

"Have you ever needed their protection?" I wondered.

He cocked his head and looked up at the ceiling of the tavern we were in. It was run down and old. The floors creaked as though they might cave in, and the walls were brown from years of people smoking pipe weed, the residue from the smoke embedding itself into the wood. "I suppose there was a time or two when they made me aware of imminent danger," Legolas answered after thinking about it.

"At least they don't follow you into battle," I laughed, noticing that he did not. "They don't do they?"

"I haven't … been in battle since my father assigned them to me," he sighed with embarrassment. Then his brows drew together as he gazed into the mug of ale set before him. It was warm and bitter, the worst ale I'd ever tasted, but it was wet and it helped to ease the tension between Legolas and me. "My mother was right about one thing. I'll not find my own way as long as I'm under my father's rule. He'll not let me find my path in this world. There will always be someone to watch over me," he said, nodding towards the two sentries stationed on either side of the tavern. Their eyes constantly scanned the room, focusing on anyone who approached Legolas, even if they were only passing by. "I can't take much more of it."

"Well, in defense of your father, he only does it because he loves you. You said he saw you die … twice … before the healers stabilized you heart. I can only imagine what that must have been like. If I had been the one to witness it, I would be devastated." He smiled at my confession, and I felt his foot nudge against mine where they rested beneath the table. I continued. "But I wouldn't keep you from a fight. I might fight alongside you from that moment on, but I wouldn't hold you back."

"It was good, wasn't it, when we stood back to back, slaying orcs," he reminisced.

"I felt invincible next to you. I was really looking forward to fighting beside you again. I think our regiments will be very compatible."

"You'll lead them," he said. "I've already told them that when they join Lothlórien, they will be under your command."

"I … I don't k-know what to say," I stammered. I had thought that someone else would command in Legolas' place. "You trust me that much?" Our server came with two bowls of stew and a loaf of bread. We paused our conversation until the young boy was through. Then Legolas answered me.

"Of course I do. I saw your courage at the river. I've seen how you have conformed to our way of life in Mirkwood. You understand the Wood elves. Not to say anything bad against your brother or anyone else in Lothlórien, but no one knows us better, and I don't think anyone else would listen to my troops. They are not there just to fight. They will have their own ideas and strategies too. You've seen what they are capable of. No one else has."

"Legolas, I am … honored. Really, I am. I swear to watch over them, to lead them to victory, and I'll do everything in my power to see that every one of them returns home.

"I know you will, Rúmil," he smiled contentedly.

We were silent for a while as we ate our stew, but as I sopped up some of the gravy with my bread, a thought crossed my mind. "Does Corweth know that you've put them under my command?"

He laughed. "She does, and she threatened to cut off my balls before she would ever take a command from you. But not to worry. We had a long conversation about it. She'll not give you any trouble. Besides, Messel will be there. She'll help keep her sister on track."

"I don't know what I ever did to her to make her not like me," I wondered aloud.

Legolas ripped another piece of bread from the loaf and handed it to me. As he did, our fingers brushed together in a deliberate way. I raised my eyes to his and they locked. "I think she is jealous."

"Jealous? Of what? Of me?" His eyes sparkled deviously in the light of the lantern that sat on our table. "You said you've been with ellith. Was Corweth one of your female lovers?"

He sat back in his chair, his hand lifting to touch the side of his neck. Just as Thranduil played with the rings on his fingers when he was caught, Legolas' habit was to touch his neck. I narrowed my eyes at him. "You did, didn't you? You slept with Corweth," I accused, and Legolas' fingers drummed a nervous rhythm.

"Maybe," he finally answered.

"Maybe?" I encouraged.

"Alright, yes … yes we did, but we were young, and neither one of us had been with someone before," he confessed, his words rushing together.

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You were both virgins? You lost your virginity to an elleth? I would never have thought–"

"There's a lot you don't know about me," he interrupted, and I humbled at the thought.

"You're right. We have barely scratched the surface with each other," I admitted.

"And yet, it seems like we've known each other for a very long time," he continued.

"I was just about to say that."

He smiled longingly. "I know."

We finished our meal, and Legolas was gazing at me from across the table. I wondered if other people in the tavern had noticed, but I didn't care. To be held within his stare was a glorious feeling, like the whole world paused around us, and it was just him and I.

"Shall we go to our room?" he asked, eyes smoldering with promise for what the night would bring.

I nodded and we stood from our table. Legolas gave the inn keeper some coins for our meal and the ale. Then he gave him a few more and told the man to give the sentries anything they wanted. The elf guards saw us heading for the stairs that led to the rooms above, and they started to follow us. Legolas held up his hand. "You don't need to watch over me every second. Enjoy yourselves for a while. I've already paid the owner. Eat, drink, whatever you like, and when you're through, there is a room for you both, but I'd like some private time now. We'll be on our way at first light."

The sentries nodded and bowed to their Prince. Legolas patted them each on the back, and they relaxed for the first time since we left Mirkwood. They had a seat on the stools at the bar, and the inn keeper brought them each a pint of ale. Legolas smiled deviously. "We won't have to worry about them now. We have the whole night to ourselves, and the inn's best room."

We made our way to the room, and found that it wasn't half bad. There was one bed, smaller than what we were used to in Mirkwood, but that would mean we'd just have to curl up to each other a little tighter. The sheets and blankets were fresh laundered, and there was a pitcher and bowl of fresh water to wash up with. Legolas had been rather generous with his coin, and the inn keeper showed his gratitude by having a bottle of wine sent to the room, already open and breathing, a set of pewter goblets neatly placed on the shelf where the bottle sat.

Legolas picked up the bottle and poured out the deep burgundy wine into each cup. "Let's hope this is better than the ale," he commented.

"I think horse piss would be better than the ale," I jested. Legolas came to me and handed me a cup. We sipped together, our eyes latched onto each other.

"Not bad," I said.

"Better than I thought it would be, but it's no Dorwinion vintage."

"Nothing can compare to Mirkwood's best. I've had it before, you know. In Lothlórien. Every once in a while, there would be a cask or two," I told him.

"A gift for your brother to let him know that all was well, and that our plans had not altered," Legolas confessed.

"This was a long time in the making, wasn't it?" I asked.

"And now it has come full circle."

"But not for you," I said sadly. "You'll not be there when we attack Dol Guldur."

We talked a bit more, but we were finding it difficult to keep the conversation going. There were only so many hours in the night, and I wanted to make each one count. The wine had done its job of loosening the tension between us. We never mentioned our mishap again, as though we were starting afresh. Knowing that we only had these few hours left meant there was no time for arguments.

Legolas strolled around the room, moving out of my sight as he came up behind me where I was sitting in a chair. His hands went to my shoulders, massaging my muscles most deliciously. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. I looked up at him, and he kissed my mouth. It was an odd sensation to kiss someone upside down, but unique. His fingers traveled along my jawline, tilting my head back more, and his lips left my mouth, only to find their way to my neck. His hands moved along the buttons of my tunic, undoing them one by one until my bare chest was exposed. He splayed his palms flat against my chest, moving to my stomach and lower until the tips of his fingers played with the waistband of my leggings. My body strained against the confining material, and my hips gyrated slightly.

"Do you want me?" he whispered.

"I always want you," I answered.

"And will you want me when I'm gone?"

"I think that I'll want you more." As I spoke, Legolas came around the chair, standing in front of me. He leaned forward, his hands resting on the arms of the chair, his face just inches from mine.

"I've never wanted anyone the way I want you," he said, and he kissed my neck and shoulder. He got onto his knees, and kissed a trail down my chest and stomach. His hands untied my leggings, folding back the flaps and finally releasing me to the cool air. He wasted no time and took me into his mouth, engulfing me in his warmth, licking and savoring every inch. His tongue dipped and flicked, rounded the rim and then lay flat and heavy on the underside as his lips slid along my length. My hips bucked, coming off the chair, as I tried to get as much of me into his mouth as I could. He hummed and the vibration sent a shiver through my spine. I wrapped my fingers in his long silky hair, and looked down to watch him work me. His head bobbed up and down. I loved watching him do this to me.

He stopped before things went too far, stood and took my hand, pulling me from the chair. "Come to bed," he demanded in a whisper. I shucked my tunic from my shoulders, and stepped out of my leggings and boots. By the time I met him at the foot of the bed, we were both naked. We laid down in unison, facing each other, hands roaming over flesh, memorizing taste, touch, and smell. And I wondered how it had come to this. How, after all I had been through a year ago, had I let someone find their way into my heart again? The glass was too far damaged. The moth was almost free as it struggled to get to its flame … to Legolas.

He rolled me onto my stomach after using the oil he had brought with him. Then his body covered mine, and he pushed into me, slow and gentle, stretching me, filling me with more than his body. Legolas whispered behind my ear, telling me things that no one had ever said to me before. We weren't just compatible, we were soul mates, he and I. I didn't have to see him to know he was there. I knew his thoughts before he said them aloud. I felt his love for me in everything he did, and everything he said, but I just couldn't take that final step when I knew there was no denying my feelings.

Legolas moved in and out, his body sliding over mine, moving easier as a sheen of sweat broke out over our skin. I felt myself building with every thrust, and I know he was too. I raised my arse and he came up on one knee, adjusting our position for the best penetration. And then he was pushing deep, hitting that one place that made my whole body sing. He pressed into me again, and his chest covered my back so that he could whisper into my ear.

"Say my name," he demanded.

"Legolas," I cried, his cock going deep and stilling. I could feel it pulsating, on the verge of release.

"Say it again," he said pulling out and then thrusting right back to the same place.

"Legolas," I called once more.

"I love you, Rúmil. Tell me you love me too." His voice changed to a plea.

"I can't," I whimpered. He pulled back so that he was almost completely removed from my body, but just enough of him was there, teasing my sensitive passage.

"Yes, you can."

"I'm afraid," I confessed.

"I'm not going anywhere. This is different, and you know it. Tell me, Rúmil. I need to hear you say it."

"It will ruin us, and I don't want you gone like all the others."

"I'm not like the others. I'm not like any of them. I'll come back, and when all this is over, we'll be together," he explained. "I need to know, Rúmil. Please. Say it." He was begging me, his voice so soft I almost couldn't hear him.

And the dome shattered. And the moth fluttered around my vulnerable heart, its wings restarting parts of me that I had shut down a year ago. And the beats grew louder and louder, my chest pounding unrestrained. And the words bubbled to the surface, sticking in my throat. And my mind screamed, 'just say it!'

"Rúmil," Legolas whimpered behind my ear.

I turned onto my back so that I could look up into his face. His eyes had misted as he gazed down upon me, reaching deep into my soul. I knew I had no other choice. I must free the last part of my spirit. All the rest, Legolas had helped me to release, but this … this last thing could only be accomplished by me, and there would be no turning back. I reached up, my palm cupping his face, and Legolas leaned into my touch. I nodded, the last stubborn part of me hoping that would be enough. Then I smiled and it reflected back onto his face as it lit up.

"By the gods, with Eru as my witness, I love you," I said. "I love you Legolas Thranduilion. I love you … I … love … you." And I couldn't stop saying it. And he smiled, his pearl white teeth flashing in the dimly lit room. And he laughed, as a tear threatened to fall. I tangled my fingers in the hair at the back of his neck, and pulled him down onto me. He buried his face in my shoulder, and I kept telling him that I loved him.

He scrambled to get between my legs, lifting them to his waist, entering me once more, and made love to me with such joy and relief. "Don't stop saying it," he said, and with every thrust, I admitted my love for him until I couldn't breathe. We came together, our bodies trembling, our cries of ecstasy filling the silence. I never experienced anything like it, and I never would again.

We didn't sleep that night. We would make love, and then lay quietly in each other's arms, stroking, touching, just needing to feel one another, whispering our love, making plans for when the war was over. We knew we'd survive. We were confident. Our talent reassured us of that.

Eventually, the sun broke over the horizon. Beams of orange light leaked in between the cracks in the curtains. I hated this. I didn't want it to end, and I told him as much. "Let's never leave this room. Maybe your guards will give up and return home if we never come out."

"And we'll just live here, in Arstad, at the edge of the forest," he continued with a laugh. "And drink bitter ale."

"And forget about the world around us," I smiled against his neck, covering him with kisses.

Something changed. I felt him stiffen, and I looked at his face. He wasn't smiling anymore.

"I've lived that way for most of my life," he said, and I realized how my last comment rang true for him. Legolas moved quicker than a flint strike, laying on top of me, staring at me with wild Wood elf eyes. "I'll not live like that anymore."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

"No," he rushed to say, smiling. "I'm glad you said it. You've helped me make my final decision."

"A decision about what?"

"I'm not going back to Mirkwood." He sat up and I moved with him, staring at him.

"What?" I asked, astonished. "But you must go to Rivendell and–"

"And I will. I've already committed myself to that task. It is my responsibility to inform them about the prisoner. But when the council is through, I'm not going home."

"Where will you go? What will you do? What about us?" I asked with desperation.

"I'm going to march with my army, with you and Lothlórien. I'm going to fight at Dol Guldur. As soon as I'm through with Rivendell, I'll ride south. I swore I would come back to you, even if that means meeting you in battle. We'll fight alongside each other as we did at the river. It will be glorious and we'll know victory again." He spoke with deep passion. He was a Wood elf, and that's just how they were.

"Your father will be furious," I reminded him, but he already knew that.

"He'll forgive my decision when I come home victorious. And you'll come back to Mirkwood to join in the celebration. We'll be together again, alone, free to be what we are." He had it all planned out, and it seemed like a solid agendum, but there was still the fact that my home was within Lothlórien. I made him aware of this, and he kissed my forehead. "We'll make due, but one day there won't be a reason to fight. The darkness will lift from the world, and the armies will disband. Then, you'll be free to live where you want, and so will I."

"You want me to leave Lothlórien?"

"And I'll leave Mirkwood, and maybe we'll come back to this ratty town," he smiled.

I laughed. "There must be somewhere else we can live, if not in Lothlórien or Mirkwood."

"Then we'll start anew," he convinced.

I brushed the hair from his face, tucking a strand behind his ear. "It all sounds wonderful, yet an impossible task. Who knows what the future brings. Just promise me you'll come back."

His fingertips caught under my chin, tilting my face up to meet his. He kissed me, slow and deliberate, and I melted against him. "I'll meet you in the south, and we'll start our journey there," he whispered when he released me. "I promise I'll come back to you."


	9. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

I was home. I was really home! I don't think I ever realized how beautiful Lothlórien was. I'd never been away for this long or so far from home, but to come back now was bittersweet. Although this was the best feeling in the world, to see familiar faces, and embrace my brothers, a piece of me was left behind … a very important piece.

Parting from Legolas as we left the small village of Arstad was a difficult thing to do. He was strong and confident, of course, assuring me that it wouldn't be long before we saw each other again, but I still had doubts. I admitted that I loved him, and the fear of my curse draped itself upon my shoulders like a dark shadow waiting to consume me. I just had to trust that this time it was different. This time it mattered, and I would let nothing stop me from loving him. Legolas assured me over and over that he was different from all the rest, and that he would return to me. I believed without a doubt that he would. He would do everything in his power to return to me. Only death would keep him away, and I prayed to the Valar every spare moment that nothing would happen to him.

I delivered Thranduil's agreement directly to Lord Celeborn, and the planning began immediately. Haldir was involved in the stratagem, where we would strike, how and when, and at what point we should combine our efforts with Mirkwood. I sat in on a few of their meetings, a combination of Lord Celeborn, all of the March wardens from the four Border Guards, and at least one Captain from each. Orophin was the Captain chosen to represent the regiments of the Northern Guard. I was merely there as an advisor when it came time to discuss the placement of the troops from Mirkwood. I told them about their fighting strategies, especially what I had witnessed at the river. "They have the element of surprise, no matter where they are," I suggested. "Give them the layout of the area, and they will know what to do."

"And who will command these savage troops?" Raenor asked, uneasy with the thought of Wood elves running amuck. He was clueless as to what the Wood elves were capable of, just as I had been before going to Mirkwood.

I hadn't thought this through. When it was agreed that Mirkwood would join Lothlórien in war, Legolas was going to be their commander. Then, when Thranduil told him he must go to Rivendell instead, Legolas said I was to command them. But on our last night together, he confessed to me that he was going to disobey his father's orders and come south to join the fight, riding day and night until he arrived. No one knew about this part of his plan except me. And no one knew he had been sent to Rivendell to join in this secret meeting. I guess it was time they knew, then.

"I will command the Wood elves," I spoke up, and everyone in the room turned their attention to me. It was deathly silent for what seemed like hours. It was Raenor who spoke first.

"You? How did this come about?" he asked skeptically.

"I haven't been in Mirkwood all this time sitting around with my thumbs up my arse. I've been watching and observing, learning their habits, their way of life. I have fought with the Wood elves, and I know their tactics better than anyone here," I explained confidently.

"But you are a Lórien elf. Why would they trust you to command their own? What happened to Prince Legolas, the King's son? I thought he was their captain, and that he would lead them in battle," Raenor questioned. He was not only distrusting of Wood elves, but he didn't trust me either. Raenor had been the one out to ruin my name after everything that happened a year ago. For nine of those months, I was at the borders, and for the past three months, I had been in Mirkwood. Too much time had passed. Even the committee that was investigating the incident that was to be my downfall thought it was time to drop it all. Túron had taken the fall for what was supposed to be me and one of my men, drunk on wine laced with a hallucinogenic, caught in a compromising position. But Túron was gone, and the soldier quietly stepped down from the army to pursue a normal life with his lover. Haldir's decision to send me to Mirkwood had drawn out the time even longer since all of that happened. Now, I had come home a hero of sorts, the only one able to convince King Thranduil to help Lothlórien destroy Dol Guldur. It was finally over, but Raenor wasn't pleased. He would always be looking over my shoulder, waiting for me to make another mistake, but I wasn't about to do that. I no longer had a lover in Lothlórien. Legolas was far from here, and there was no reason to think anything transpired between us. The last thing anyone would think was that an elf of Lórien had fallen in love with a Wood elf. Besides, I would only see Legolas in Mirkwood, making our relationship even safer.

"As I said," answering Raenor's questions. "While I was in Mirkwood, it was my goal to gain the trust of not only their King but their people as well. I did that by conforming to their way of life. I joined them in a small battle at the river, when orcs were seen trying to cross in an attempt to raid the palace. I fought hard and I fought well. The Prince, himself, can attest to that. I earned their respect. I also learned that not all of the Wood elves agreed with King Thranduil's decision to remain detached from the outside world." At this point, I gazed at Haldir. He turned his eyes from me. We would have to discuss this later. I continued. "Again, Prince Legolas was involved in this, and he looked to me for help in convincing his father to send troops to fight. We worked together in this effort, and as you can see, the results of our efforts have paid off. As for the whereabouts of the Prince, he was sent on an important mission, by King Thranduil, and with this change in plans, he asked that I lead his warriors into battle."

"He will not fight alongside his warriors?" Raenor questioned. "Taking the coward's way out." He finished with a smirk, but I did not find any humor in this at all.

"Prince Legolas is not a coward," I defended. "He wants nothing more than to fight with Lothlórien at Dol Guldur, but he must follow the King's orders. He holds important information that he has been charged with delivering to Lord Elrond. It remains to be seen whether or not he will join us in the south. It depends on how long he must stay in Imladris. But I believe he will be there, and if not, then I have been elected to lead his troops. I plan on not disappointing the son of the last Elven King." I stopped to look around the room. "You asked me here for my opinion about the warriors that will join us from Mirkwood. I'm telling you that they don't need much direction. They are fierce warriors. Leave them to fight this war how they know best, and we will have victory."

They asked me a few more questions, and I answered as best I could. After a long discussion, the meeting was adjourned and I was glad for it. I was tired, not having had any time to rest once I returned, only a quick bath and a few bites to eat. Lothlórien was anxious to get things moving. Scouts had reported seeing orcs gathering at the dark tower again, and in greater numbers. It was very suspicious, and we had a feeling that they somehow figured out that we were planning an attack. They didn't know when, though. Not even we knew that at this point.

We left the room, and my brothers approached me, each one hugging me and ruffling my hair. It was just like when we were young. I didn't realize how much I had missed them.

"My little brother, negotiator for Lothlórien," Orophin boasted and laughed.

"I'll pass on that title, thank you," I responded half-heartedly.

Orophin slapped my back. "You managed to talk Middle-earth's most stubborn elf into joining us. That's no small feat."

"It wasn't me alone in this. I had help." I glanced over my shoulder, knowing that Haldir stood behind me. "Enough about me. How are you? I heard you'd been injured."

"Naught but a flesh wound," Orophin said, brushing it off quickly. "But I've managed to spice up my story. Works well to impress the ellith." He winked and nudged me with his elbow. "Speaking of … anything interesting happen in Mirkwood?" he insinuated.

"Oh, plenty of interesting, but not with any females," I confessed. If my poor brother only knew, but thank the Valar he did not know my secret. "I'm afraid this visit was strictly business."

Orophin frowned. "Too bad. I've heard some curious things about Wood elves."

I decided it was time to change the subject. "So, are you two going to catch me up on all that I've missed while I was gone?"

"How about dinner?" Orophin invited turning to Haldir. "At your place?"

"Why do we always end up at my home?" Haldir complained. The fact was, Haldir had the biggest and most comfortable talan home, as well as a servant who always liked to cook something wonderful for the three of us.

"I've already told Egeril that she may have a few days off. I knew I'd be busy with all of this after Rúmil returned. So, I'm afraid you'll not receive a proper meal if you come to my place tonight," Haldir said to dissuade us from coming. But Orophin knew he still had a private stock of the best wine found in Lothlórien. He wouldn't give up easily.

"I'll bring the food. You contribute the wine. We'll make a night of it," Orophin insisted.

Haldir sighed, knowing there was no getting out of something that Orophin set his mind to. "Very well, tonight then. Rúmil," he said without hesitation. "Join me for a moment, if you don't mind."

"Not at all." I patted Orophin on the shoulder. "As long as you're bringing the food, mind scrounging up some sweet rolls? It's been a long time since I've had any."

"Anything for my little brother, the hero," he sang.

I rolled my eyes and smiled as I watched him walk off. I thought about the news I received from Thranduil, that he'd been injured. It scared me. If anything ever happened to either of them . . . Without missing a beat, I turned back to Haldir, the smile still upon my face.

"We missed you around here," Haldir admitted once it was just us. We walked slowly along the wooden paths within the mallorn trees. "Orophin mostly, though I was a close second."

"Why do you say that?" I wondered.

"He was hurt worse than he leads on. An arrow through the arm." Haldir stopped and shook his head from side to side. "Sliced some of the tendons, the healers said. He still cannot fire his bow properly. The strength has not completely returned. With time and exercising the muscles, he'll be back to his old self, but he will not fight in this battle."

I knew how devastating something like that could be, not able to fight for those who you feel it is your duty to protect. "I didn't know." I turned back to look in the direction he had headed off in. "I should have said something."

"Orophin kept saying that it might have been you, if you were here to lead your troops, and he was glad it wasn't that way. Still, he was worried about you, so far away and alone."

"I wasn't alone though. I was with the Wood elves," I assured, even though Orophin was not there to hear it. "We've been wrong about them, you know. They are much smarter and braver than we give them credit for."

Haldir nodded. "They are when they're in their own environment. Take them out of Mirkwood, and I worry that their strategies might fail."

I shook my head. "No, you're wrong. I know you think you know the Wood elves, but you never spent time with them like I did. You never fought beside them, feeding off of their energy. It was an amazing experience."

Haldir stopped walking and looked at me with hardened eyes. "You've changed, Rúmil."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, not necessarily, as long as you remember the rules here."

"Which rules are you talking about?" I asked cautiously. Was he implying . . .

"The rule that no one makes a move without first discussing it with the March warden," Haldir berated. I thought I knew where this was going, and it stemmed back to the days of Legolas' grandfather.

"Do you think I will order the Mirkwood elves without telling you what I'm doing?"

"Wood elves have been known to answer to their superiors … only. I just don't want you conforming to their standards so as to keep control of them. If you are to lead Prince Legolas' troops–"

"If I give them an order, it's because it is the right thing to do, not a way to impress them or control them." I grasped Haldir's shoulder and leaned into his ear, as a couple of elves passed us. "Listen, Legolas would not have asked me to take his troops to war if he thought there was even the slightest chance that they would disobey and go rogue. Let's not forget that they are here because they wanted to be here, not because they feel that they must. These are the elves that did not agree with Thranduil, or have you forgotten that?" I backed off and looked him straight in the eyes. "And I wasn't the one to piss off their King, either."

Haldir's hand came up and he palmed the back of his neck. "You found out about that?"

"Did you think I wouldn't? The reason you sent me there was so that Lórien could get back into good graces with Mirkwood. It wasn't all about that damn trial or Raenor. As a matter of fact, I think that whole thing was about to be dropped anyways, especially after our extended stay at the borders. Too much time had gone by, and if Raenor wanted to pursue it, he wasn't going to get any more support from the council."

"Alright, I admit that I had ulterior motives for sending you to Mirkwood, but if you knew about my involvement, you might not have been as convincing. Obviously it worked. Mirkwood will fight with us."

"It wasn't just me. Legolas had a lot to do with my success," I admitted.

"You two … got along?" Haldir asked. If only he knew how well we got along.

"Well, not at first. I didn't want to be there. I just wanted to relay the message and leave, but I was gifted with an arrow through my leg," I said trying to be facetious. "But while I recovered, Legolas and I got to know each other, and he's not at all what I perceived him to be." I could feel my voice softening as I spoke of him, and cleared my throat to cover my emotions. "I thought it best to earn his trust and support first, more so than Thranduil. You know … to get to the king, first get to his messenger. That sort of thing."

"I'm afraid Legolas and I did not see much eye to eye, but we put our differences aside to work together with our plan. I was having better luck with Thranduil, that was, until . . ." He gave me another hard look. "Did Legolas tell you what happened?"

"With the prisoner? Yes. As a matter of fact, that information came in handy with my negotiations." Haldir quirked a brow in confusion. "I'll tell you about it over dinner."

Haldir seemed to humble a moment before we went on our way again. He bowed his head, twisting his hands, which was very unlike him. "Listen, Rúmil … I'm sorry I didn't tell you what was going on. I knew you would find a way to speak with the King, and I was afraid that if you knew everything, Thranduil would see through our plans. Legolas did of course, but I knew he'd find a way to involve you in our plot."

"He revealed it slowly," I said. "I didn't know about your involvement right away. Legolas kept a lot of things to himself until he thought he could trust me. If it wasn't for Legolas and his help, I don't think Thranduil would even have listened to a word I had to say. It was a combined effort, and it worked. That's all."

Haldir smiled. "I look forward to hearing more about it over dinner." By now, we were at my home, and I was ready to take a little break and relax, get my bearings, and think about Legolas. I was missing him something terrible, but I couldn't let that show. If I thought it was difficult to keep my private life secret before, then this was a hundred times harder.

"You want to come in?" I asked Haldir as I turned the handle on my door.

He hesitated, thinking a moment, but shook his head. "No, no you just go on in, and I'll see you tonight."

"Are you sure? I'm tired, but I've always got time for my brother."

"I'm sure. Get some rest. You'll have some storytelling to do later."

* * *

><p>Dinner was wonderful. Orophin brought venison stew and two loaves of bread. We ate like kings, laughing, telling stories and just catching up on everything. It felt so good to be with my brothers, away from the outside world, reliving days gone by and days to come. The wine flowed freely, and we were all feeling the effects by the end of the evening. Orophin went out to relieve himself, leaving Haldir and I to talk. We found ourselves discussing our personal views of Mirkwood, and to my surprise, we agreed on a lot of things. The wine made me bold and I asked him about his time there, and why he went back multiple times. He tried to convince me that is was solely for the purpose of getting Thranduil to concede, but I remember Legolas telling me that he thought Haldir had met someone. I poked around for more information until Haldir was relaxed enough to tell me. And now was the perfect time, while Orophin was away.<p>

"Alright, the truth then," Haldir said when I wouldn't let the issue die. "I did meet someone. Nothing serious, mind you, but we got along very well. His name was Tirnel and he's a scribe."

"A scribe?" I asked curiously. "Never thought of you as being interested in the type."

"He was quiet, and I liked that. Being a warrior, being surrounded by soldiers all the time, and having to command them, I do love it, but I need peace and quiet from time to time. Tirnel was like that. I think that's why I was drawn to him in the first place."

"They do say opposites attract." I didn't think that was always true, though. Look at me and Legolas. We were more alike in every way than we were opposite.

"It's a kind of sanctuary for us, isn't it? Mirkwood, I mean … to be free of our inhibitions," Haldir admitted, his voice as distant as he faraway look.

Sanctuary, I thought … iaun nín. By the gods, I missed him. "Yes … yes it is." My pensive mood revealed the secret I'd been trying to keep. Haldir's attention was fully on me now, as he eyed me.

"You met someone also," he said, almost a whisper, as if the walls would hear. I nodded, but I wouldn't meet his eyes. "It's not easy for someone like us to find refuge, and when we do, we tend to gravitate towards it."

"It's not easy to switch back either, not after three months of living without restraints," I admitted freely. "I became rather used to it."

Haldir shook his head. "I never could quite relax in that way, and I continued to keep my private life private." I already knew that, from what Legolas had told me. "Just remember that you are home now," Haldir warned.

I nodded and Orophin came back inside, stumbling slightly as he walked into Haldir's home. "You know," I said to change the mood between Haldir and I. "They have some unique ideas in Mirkwood … the latrines for instance. No pots to clean or holes to dig. Perhaps we could explain the design to someone, see if we can come up with something similar." And the discussion went in the complete opposite direction from the one Haldir and I were just engaged in.

* * *

><p>Time either flew by quickly or it crawled at a snail's pace. It depended on where I was and what I was doing. Commanding my troops, preparing them, strengthening them … there didn't seem to be enough hours in the day. But it was at night when I laid alone in my bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the ghostly touch of my Mirkwood lover that time seemed to almost stop. I needed him. I missed him.<p>

I took up my Captain's position instantly, began training and practice with my troops, and got them ready for the upcoming war. There wasn't much time before we left Lothlórien. Word had been sent to Mirkwood. The plans were set, and they would meet us just outside of our borders. It took some convincing. The Wood elves preferred to join armies just before entering the border of Dol Guldur, but that would mean having to travel as they usually did, through the trees within the Rhovanion. It was a dangerous route and it would take a lot of energy. Lord Celeborn wanted them to be rested and fresh, so he insisted that they travel along the Anduin River, away from the dangers of the dark forest, and meet Lórien, prepared and ready for war. Eventually, Thranduil agreed, but it was not easy. Because of this, I knew Legolas had not returned to Mirkwood. If he had been home, he would have seen to it that these concerns were met and agreed upon quickly. But if he was not home, then that meant he was either still in Rivendell or on his way south already. Would he keep his promise? Would he be there? I couldn't see what would stop him. He lived to fight, much like me. We were alive when we were engaged in war, and we were never more alive than when we fought side by side. I could still remember what that felt like, but even more, what it felt like to be with him afterwards. I missed him … more than I thought possible.

The day finally came when we gathered our troops. Lothlórien's army was a sight to behold when they were lined up, ready to march. I stood upon the platform that overlooked the practice grounds, gazing down upon my fellow soldiers. It was a glorious sight, all of them dressed in their armor, black and silver, smooth, flowing, solid. They were one large entity of strength and power, feared by all who stood in our way.

Lord Celeborn gave a single command and they moved in one motion, snapping to attention in unison. The sound of armor moving was deafening and quick. Chink! And they were standing straight and tall, facing straight ahead, bows strapped to their backs, swords glittering at their sides. I ached to be down there amongst them, but I was a Captain now. My duty was to lead them, to encourage them. My time would come when the battle commenced. Then I could join my men, get blood on my sword, and best of all, I'd see my Mirkwood lover.

"Look at them," Orophin said with pride. "Can you already taste the victory?"

"Dol Guldur will not stand a chance," I smiled, but my joy lessened as I looked to my brother, his arm secured in a sling. "I wish would were coming with me."

"I'll be there in spirit, Rúmil. You'll do fine, brother. You'll make us all very proud," he encouraged.

"The borders I am used to. This is much different, going to a strange land to fight in an unknown terrain."

"Remember all you've been taught, and you'll be alright. Everyone is nervous for their first foreign campaign. Just remember to watch your back."

I turned to him, and we grasped arms. Orophin wore his armor, from his helmet to his reinforced metal boots, even though he was not going with us today. We rested our foreheads against each other, the metal clacking. My brother was strong and brave, but I felt his worry for me. He wouldn't be there to watch out for his little brother, and he'd always been there in the past.

"Haldir won't let me out of his sight," I assured. "Nothing is going to happen to me, Orophin."

"I know," he said. "That's just it, Rú … you're going to go there, fight, taste success, come home victorious, and you'll have done it all without me. I've always felt a responsibility to you, to see that you were safe. Perhaps you won't need me anymore."

"I'll always need my brother," I whispered and pulled him into my embrace.

Lord Celeborn gave the command to march, and the army moved out of the glade. We were on our way.

* * *

><p>Past the borders of Lothlórien the trees gave way to open green fields of grass. The sun shone bright from a brilliant blue sky above us. It was difficult to think that evil existed when one looked upon the beauty of the world. This was what we were fighting for, to preserve this right here, the freedom to live out amongst the sun and sky, and the miles of green that spread before us. And I fought for the freedom of Mirkwood, to prosper and grow as green as the field before me, and to share that new day with Legolas.<p>

Scouts informed us of the approaching Wood elf army, and my heart quickened. They were here. They kept their promise to Lothlórien. I rode out ahead of the troops. I wanted to see this, Mirkwood in all its dangerous glory. I moved next to Haldir, looking out over the distance, and smiled to my brother.

"I knew they'd come," he said with relief.

"Did you ever doubt me?" I asked arrogantly.

"Not you, brother, but Thranduil. I'm never completely convinced he will keep his word."

I narrowed my eyes, and trained them on the distance. They were running, bows in hand, lightly armored, and dauntless faces ready for combat. I still felt a connection with these elves. I missed them all, and I couldn't wait to be with them again. Their voices rose above the wind that blew across the field, whoops and hollers, their battle cry I supposed. There was something animalistic about the sound, like wolves howling at the moon. I wanted to howl back at them, and silently laughed at the thought. We stopped and waited for them to catch up, and I was jumping internally. He was there somewhere, Legolas. I couldn't wait to look into those brilliant eyes, the ones that matched the blue sky above me. If only I could embrace him, kiss him, tell him again how much I loved him.

"Do they not march in order?" I heard one of the Captains complain. "Look at them running and yelling. They'll draw attention to themselves. Is this how they'll be when we're near the enemy?"

"They'll be feared most of all in the eyes of the orcs," I defended. "You could learn a thing or two from the Wood elves."

He huffed skeptically. "Not likely," he muttered and disappeared back into the crowd.

"Listen," Haldir called drawing the attention of all Wardens and Captains. "From here on out we put our differences aside. Mirkwood joins Lothlórien and we march as one. We'll fight as one. And we will share in the victory. Today we are elves of Middle-earth, not Lórien and Mirkwood. This world belongs to all of us, and we will defend it as one entity."

The first to approach us was Corweth and her twin Messel, along with a few of the others I remember from the river. They bowed and the leaders of Lothlórien bowed in return. Corweth's face was stern as usual. "Mirkwood has answered the call."

"And Lothlórien is most grateful to you," Haldir answered.

While they went over the formalities, my eyes scanned the Wood elf army. Where was Legolas? The anticipation was eating me alive inside. Every head of blond hair I saw made my heart leap, but so far, none of them was Legolas.

"Captain Rúmil," I heard Messel sing. "It is so good to see you again."

"Messel," I smiled, embracing her. "You don't know how good it is to see you."

"We've missed you around the palace. How are you?"

"I am well. Better now that I see all of you here." I was speaking to her, but my eyes kept darting around to all the Wood elves as they passed us and mingled with the Lórien soldiers.

"You're looking for Legolas, aren't you?" she asked, but there was something off about her tone.

"He's here, isn't he?"

Her smile faded, but the corners of her mouth stayed upturned for appearance's sake. "He did not return from Rivendell."

Had he not told her his plans? If Legolas would tell anyone his secret it would be Messel. "Actually, he wasn't supposed to return."

"You already knew this?" she asked with confusion. "But how? No one knew what would happen at the meeting."

I creased my brows. "Legolas made up his mind before he left Mirkwood," I informed. "He didn't tell you? He said he couldn't follow his father's directions. He was going to leave Rivendell and come south, either to Lothlórien before we marched or here, at our meeting point."

Messel shook her head. "No, he didn't tell me this. But–"

"Perhaps he was late leaving Imladris and he'll catch us up along the way," I reasoned with myself, but there was something Messel hadn't yet told me. I could sense it.

"I don't know about your arrangement, but–"

"Just like Prince Legolas to keep everyone in the dark," I laughed nervously.

"Rúmil," she said, touching my arm, gaining my attention. "He is not coming."

"Of course he is. He promised me."

"A letter came from Rivendell. Legolas attended the meeting, and told them about the prisoner. He said Mithrandir held no animosity towards Mirkwood. And then Legolas said that he was not coming back."

"What? Is he staying in Rivendell?"

"We aren't sure."

"What about the sentries that went with him? Don't they know anything?" I asked with desperation.

"Legolas sent them back to Mirkwood at the conclusion of the meeting. He didn't tell them anything. He just said that they should deliver his message to King Thranduil, and tell his father that he was sorry, but that it was something he must do. He had to contribute to the war in his own way. He said that Mirkwood should not send anyone to retrieve him, because he wouldn't be there," Messel told me.

I was beside myself. What had happened in Rivendell that Legolas would not follow through with our plans? At least he could have gone back to Mirkwood if he changed his mind about defying his father. But to defect to Rivendell altogether without word of what he was doing or why he was doing it, that was very unlike him. Either that, or I didn't know him well enough. No, I knew him … didn't I?

"Did he … did he say anything else? Was there a separate message … maybe something for me?"

Messel took my hands in hers and shook her head slowly back and forth. "I'm sorry, Rúmil."

"Maybe he is still coming," I tried to convince myself.

"His message came a while back. The meeting was held more than a month ago. If he was going to be here, he would have showed long before." She tried to comfort me. "We are all worried for him, Thranduil especially, but we just don't know what happened or where he'd gone."

"What about Lord Elrond? Surely he knows what's happened."

"If he does, he isn't saying. Thranduil contacted him and the response said not to fret, that it was strictly Legolas' decision, and that he would be fine."

I released Messel's hands and turned from her. "He not coming. He's abandoned his home, his duty. Why?"

"Perhaps it was too much. I know the guilt he carried over the kidnapping and the death of his men. Having to tell Lord Elrond and Mithrandir about his decision to let the prisoner out of his cell must have been very difficult. Rivendell has always been known as the elves last sanctuary. Maybe he stayed to find peace within himself, to try to forgive himself. I just don't really know." Messel stood next to me for a moment longer, then she laid a gentle hand on my arm, giving a squeeze before she left to join her sister.

"The elves last sanctuary," I whispered to myself. "Could I not have been that to him?" What was in Rivendell anyways? Had he decided to join their guard, fight alongside the sons of Elrond? I thought back to our past discussions. I didn't think he had any connections there, nothing that would make him choose Rivendell over his home. But wait. He said he'd met someone there, a musician. It was a very long time ago, and he was so young then, but maybe . . . "No," I told myself. "He said he loved me." Not unless he loved him more, my mind screamed. My insecurity came rushing back as I remembered what Legolas told me about this mystery elf.

'_He was gorgeous, auburn hair, beautiful green eyes, and a smile that took my breath away. I flirted with him all evening. It was shameless of me, I know, but I just couldn't help myself. Oh, the things we did to each other.'_

What if that was it? They had met again after all these years and the spark reignited. Legolas might have discovered that what he felt for me was just a residual emotion of what he felt about this elf. I had been so reluctant to give into him at first. He even told me he loved me and I could not answer. Had he told the minstrel he loved him? Had the minstrel said it back to him? And really, what kind of relationship could Legolas and I have, especially with Lórien being my home and Mirkwood his?

I told him what would happen if I admitted my love for him. And here it was once more, staring me in the face … my curse, my inability to ever know what it was like to have something normal. Once I let someone into my heart, they disappeared … first Túron and now Legolas.

"I don't have time for this right now," I scolded myself. There was a war waiting to be waged. My mind must be clear to think. I couldn't afford this distraction, yet it was bearing down on me, making my heart ache. I should have made that dome out of stone, not glass. Now the pieces that Legolas' love had broken in order to set me free were cutting into me as they forced their razor sharp edges back together. "Get it back together, and fast," I berated. I could almost hear the clinking of glass as the dome reformed around my heart carelessly. Only a few pieces left, I thought as I walked into the group of Lórien soldiers gathering. My soldiers, I thought to myself. My army, my first love. I was a warrior after all, and that was something I could not undo. Toughen up and throw myself back into my work, that's what I would do.

"He abandoned it all," I told myself. To say it aloud made it real. "He should be here with his people, fighting for his home, fighting beside me." The last piece of glass hovered, waiting for the moth to return. The flame was extinguished. There was nothing to attract it now. "He has a duty to his people. What could have made him do this?" I shook my head. "I thought I knew him. Why would he not return to where he was needed most?"

The light went out and all was dark. I got too close and singed my wings. I knew better than this, but I was manipulated. It still didn't seem real. I thought I knew him. I was sure, without a doubt that Legolas loved me. This time it was different. I was so sure. And the voice in my head screamed, I told you this would happen.

* * *

><p>Dol Guldur stood before us. The orcs were prepared. They had known we were coming. We had hardly stepped into the dark forest when we were ambushed. My troops took some casualties, but the Wood elves kept their cleverness. As archers, we distracted the orcs, but there was no surprise attack. We had to keep them focused on us while the swordsmen ran in. It was a bloody battle, and not as easy as we thought it would be. As I said, the orcs knew we were coming. The one thing that was to our advantage … the Nazgûl were not there. They had abandoned the dark tower a long time ago and never returned.<p>

Haldir took his troops, as well as some of the Mirkwood elves, to the east of the tower, while I led my troops and the remaining Wood elves to the north. This was where the orc armies were heaviest. The rest of Lothlórien's armies spread to different areas around the land, extinguishing smaller groups of the enemy, looking for traps and hidden exits where orcs could escape. The area was pretty well covered.

My mixed regiment of elves fought hard, pushing the orcs back into their tower. We seemed to have the advantage until they unleashed an army of trolls. The giant creatures were dressed in armor, making it difficult to kill them. They were armed with spiked clubs and long chains that they whipped around, taking down anyone who got within range. I gathered my regiment, and ordered them to defend the line. Corweth told me the plans for the Wood elves. They would circle around and try to attack the trolls at close range. I didn't like the idea of them getting so close. Trolls were difficult to kill without armor and weapons. These would be nearly impossible.

"We know what to do, Captain," Corweth said, brimming with confidence. "You just keep your men on the line, and don't fire past the trolls."

I couldn't disagree. The Mirkwood warriors already knew what they were going to do. They were merely telling me their position. I had to trust that Corweth knew what she was doing. Messel was about to go with her sister, but she doubled back. "I can stay here with you and your troops if you want. Corweth has this under control." It was a genuine offer, but I could see the longing in her eyes to stay with her sister. I knew the feeling, the need to protect family. It couldn't be ignored.

"Go with Corweth and the others. We'll be fine here."

"Are you sure, Rúmil?" she asked. Ever since she told me about Legolas, she kept a sharp eye on me. I think she was worried I would become reckless, and she was right. The thought had crossed my mind to run headlong into a band of orcs and just start slashing my sword, killing as many as I could before they engulfed me and outnumbered me. I would die that valiant death I had thought of before, earn my fëa a place within Mandos Halls.

"I'm sure. Now go before you miss all the fun." I watched her run off to catch her sister. Then I gathered my men and commanded them to the line. They took their positions, and we waited for the trolls to approach. Finally, they came within sight. Their armor looked impenetrable with layers of metal overlapping chain mail. My men were within a tree line, but the trees would not give us adequate cover. It was all we had. This was Dol Guldur. The land here had died many years ago. The trees were bare. The soil was corrupted. Nothing grew on this forsaken sight. All we could do was shelter behind rotted trunks. Once the trolls were close enough, their clubs and chains would knock down what was left standing, and we would be in the open, vulnerable to orcs. For now, though, the cowardly bastards were letting the trolls do their dirty work.

"Lórien, nock your arrows!" I called to the line. Like a synchronized dance, they raised their bows and held an arrow to it, waiting for my signal.

"Ready!" I commanded, and they pulled their arms back, stretching the strings as they aimed for their targets.

"Fire!" A slew of arrows jetted through the sky, flying up and up, slowing, and then turning back to the earth. We watched the trolls become distracted as a hail of arrows rained down on them. Most just bounced off their armor. A few stuck into their thick flesh. No trolls fell, and that was discouraging.

"Keep firing!" I shouted, watching the activity. I watched for the Mirkwood elves to make their move. I needed to stop my men when I knew they were close. How would I know? It was so dark, even my elf eyes could not make out the distant shapes except for the trolls, and that was just because of their size. And then I heard it, the bird like whistle that Legolas had used. For a short moment, I thought it was him, but he wasn't here. He was in Rivendell.

"That's it! That's the signal! Stop firing. Mirkwood approaches." I repeated my command until everyone knew to stop.

"Swords ready!" Now we would join Mirkwood. As they attacked from behind, we would run out and meet our enemy. These trolls would cease to exist.

I waited anxiously, but no second whistle sounded. The trolls kept advancing. I waited even longer, and the enemy was closing in on us. Get too close, and we would be vulnerable to their whipping chains.

"Come on, Corweth," I said to myself.

"Captain!" one of my men called. "They're closing in."

"Hold! No one moves a muscle until I give the word," I repeated to my men, anxious to do something. So was I. And just when I thought we would have to retreat, I saw one of the trolls stumble and go down on its knees. A closer look, and I could make out the shape of a handful of elves attacking the fallen troll. One by one, the remaining trolls became distracted. "Forward! Attack!" I shouted, and we rushed towards the trolls. As we made our way, I could see elves behind the line of giants. Some climbed up the back of their armor onto their thick necks where they were firing arrows into the soft flesh. Others were slashing their swords at the backs of the trolls' ankles, severing tendons that rendered them useless. They were turning to see what was happening, who was behind them, but they were large, slow and clumsy. It gave my men time to approach and attack. We outnumbered the troll tribe, and it took several elves just to bring down one ugly giant. It didn't take long, and they were all down, but there was no time to celebrate, because we knew orcs were not far behind. We regrouped to quickly discuss our next move.

"I'll take my people back to the tree line," I said. "The orcs will know we are there, and they'll rush in to do battle."

"Good," Corweth agreed. "Since there's fewer of us, we'll use the trolls as cover, and attack the orcs after they run past the bodies. We'll surround them, and take them all down.

"Captain!" A messenger rushed up to me. "The March warden calls for your help. You and your men are needed east of the tower. They've found a nest of orcs, and the men need backup."

"I can't come now," I explained. "I'm needed here. We're about to extinguish an orc army here."

"They are outnumbered, Captain. Haldir would not summon you if it wasn't important," the messenger pleaded.

"Go on, Captain," Corweth said. "We can handle things here. I think the bulk of the orc army are where your brother is. He needs you."

I didn't feel right about leaving Corweth and the Wood elves here to fend for themselves. The orcs were unpredictable in this battle. "No, you'll come with me. If Haldir is in trouble, they'll need every last one of us."

"We'll not leave our post," Corweth demanded. "This is where we will fight, but your brother calls for you. Do not ignore him. He's family."

She was right. My brothers and I never abandoned each other. If one of us called, the others came. "Alright, but watch these orcs. If it looks like there are too many, retreat to the trees. At least it will slow them down and allow you to get away."

"We can take care of ourselves, Captain. Now go!" And Corweth dashed off towards the dead trolls to lie in wait and ambush part of the orc army.

I ordered my men to go to the east side of the dark tower, and glanced back one more time. There was no trace of any Wood elves. They disappeared into the darkness, blending in with their surroundings, just like they did in Mirkwood. And here I was with my men, heavily weighed down with armor, running right into the hands of the enemy. I didn't like it one bit. Something didn't feel right. I stopped and let my troops pass me, looking into the darkness, waiting for the familiar whistle that would signal the Wood elves. It all seemed too easy.

There was a moment when it seemed like time stopped. It became unusually quiet in that split second, and the hairs stood on the back of my neck. Then I heard the whack of an arrow punching into something next to me, and looked to see one of my men hit in the chest. He stood a moment with unseeing eyes before he collapsed lifelessly to the ground. I couldn't move, as though my legs were stuck in quicksand. My head slowly turned towards the last place I'd seen Corweth, but instead of elves, I saw orcs. The Wood elves were outnumbered.

"Turn back!" I shouted to my men, but most were already too far ahead. "Back to the trolls!" I called, and only a few obeyed my orders. It was too late. Black arrows flew dangerously close to my head. One of my men actually pulled me away with him, heading towards the east where Haldir waited for help. But Corweth and the Wood elves needed our help. The trolls were the diversion, not the threat. Elves were dying because of me. I should never have left them there. I should have commanded them to come with us. I should have fought harder for Legolas' people. I failed them. I failed him. I failed myself.

I ripped my arm from the grip of the elf who was pulling me from the danger. I couldn't leave the Wood elves to fend for themselves. Legolas left them in my care and in my command. "I've got to go back," I told the soldier. "Tell Haldir to send help this way. Tell him there's another large army of orcs north of the tower, and that the Mirkwood army is outnumbered. We need back up … now." The soldier nodded and ran off to my brother. I went towards the dead trolls, running as fast as I could go, firing my bow as I went. I had to make my way to them, to the Wood elves. They were my responsibility. Legolas told me I would command them if he could not. I would not abandon them. I would fight for them, for Mirkwood. I had to. There was nothing left for me to do, and I had to make this right.

The closer I got to the area, the thicker the atmosphere became. The metallic smell of blood permeated the air, and my heart dropped, for it was spilled elf blood that I scented. I made it to the dead trolls, and froze at the sight. Wood elves littered the area. Some faces were familiar, some were not, but they were my responsibility no matter who they were. And now they were dead. I searched the troll carcasses, and found some injured among the lifeless bodies. The ones who could move, I gathered together to help me with the ones who could not move. I had to get them out of there before the orc army came back. It looked like they forced their way through the area, expecting a much bigger army of elves than what they found. And then I realized what their plan was all along. While Haldir and his men assaulted the orcs in the east, this army would come up from behind. Lórien would be surrounded. My men were there now. I just had to hope my brother would figure it out and be prepared for the onslaught. There was no way of warning him now. It also meant that there was no relief coming here.

I took a head count, and found I had a number of elves still able to fight. I ordered them to set up a patrol around the injured until I could get them someplace safe. It seemed for every living elf, there were two dead, but I couldn't think about that at the moment. I wondered what Legolas would have done in this situation. It didn't matter. He wasn't here. He should have been here, and I became angry to think that he stayed in Rivendell. There had to be a reason. There just had to be. He could have at least written me, and told me his plans, but he knew I would take his warriors and lead them in his stead. I began to think he had too much confidence in me.

"Captain," one of the soldiers came to me. "You should come."

This couldn't be good. I followed the Mirkwood soldier, and what I found struck me deep in my soul. Corweth was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by bodies, elf and orc alike. In her lap, she held her sister, Messel. The first thing I noticed was the pool of blood beneath her. Messel's tunic and leggings were soaked in red. I ran to them, and stopped behind Corweth, looking over her shoulder to the pale face of her sister. There was a large gash in Messel's side. I closed my eyes and looked away. Corweth was crying, brushing her sister's hair back from her forehead, and leaned down to kiss her there. I laid my hand on Corweth's shoulder and she looked up at me, her eyes swollen with tears.

"She saved me," she sobbed. "I didn't see the creature in time, but Messel did. She jumped between us and his sword struck her instead. It should have been me, but she took the blow instead."

I knelt next to them to examine the wound, and was surprised to see Messel was still breathing. "She's still alive," I said. "But she's lost a lot of blood." I glanced around the area, trying to think what I should do. "We need to slow the blood." I wore my cape, the one I'd had since before I became a soldier. It had been a present from Fandir, and I swore to always keep it safe. Without a second thought, I took it off and used my knife to rip part of it off. I held it against the wound. My hands were shaking as I worked. "If we can keep pressure on the wound until the healers come . . ."

Messel coughed and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. She opened her eyes to her sister and coughed again. "Corweth … you're … alright?" she gasped.

"Thanks to you," Corweth smiled, as tears escaped her eyes. "I killed the bastard who did this to you."

Messel smiled, blinked slowly and turned her head to look at me. "Rúmil, you're alright too." She tried to sit up, but because of the wound and the loss of blood, she was too weak.

"Don't move, Messel," I told her, pressing my cloak against her side.

She rolled her eyes down, trying to see the wound. "Is it bad?"

I didn't know how to answer. I debated telling her the truth, afraid she would give up the fight. My mouth flopped open and closed but nothing came out.

"Just a flesh wound," Corweth answered for me. The hurt and pain in her eyes spoke the truth.

Messel knew it was bad. She laid her hand on her sister's arm, and did her best to be brave and smile through the pain. "At least you're safe, and that's all that matters."

We were losing her. Messel's breath gurgled in her chest, and when she coughed, blood splattered. "Hang on, Messel. Help is coming," I told her. Looking around the area, I saw an elf, though I didn't know whether he was from Mirkwood or Lórien. It didn't really matter. I called to him, demanding that he go and bring back a healer. The elf ran off somewhere. I hoped he'd find one in time.

Corweth held her sister's head in her hands, crying as her tears landed on Messel's face. "Don't leave me, sister. What will I do alone? You are my twin, my second half."

"You've always been the strong one," Messel answered. "You'll go on for the both of us. The war is not over. Mirkwood needs her daughter to fight for them."

"You'll fight again too," I encouraged her. "We'll get a healer and–"

"No, Rúmil. It's too late for me. I can already feel the distant shores," Messel said with peaceful calm.

"Messel, no," Corweth cried.

Messel smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. Whatever little bit of life force was left, she used it now, to be brave in the face of death and comfort Corweth. "We'll be together again. I just know it. And we'll finally have that day in the sun, running through the tall grass, barefoot, a crown of flowers upon our heads. You'll see. I'll be there waiting for you." Messel closed her eyes.

"You must hold on," I commanded. "You'll not die here on this forsaken ground."

Messel's eyes opened half way and she reached her hand out to me, snaking it behind my head as she pulled me down to her. I had to release the pressure I was putting on the wound to lean down far enough, until my ear was close to her mouth. And with her dying breath, she whispered to me. "He … loves you … Rúmil. Legolas … loves you … so … much. He … he told me … before he left. Don't … don't give up on him." She rushed the last words to say them before she lost consciousness. Then her breathing slowed, and I heard her release her last breath.

"Messel?" Corweth cried. "Oh no, Messel. Please … no. My sister, no."

There was no point holding the cloak over the wound anymore. Messel was gone. I collapsed on the ground next to the sisters, and pulled Corweth's head onto my shoulder. "She should have been with me," I confessed. "She asked to go with me, but I told her to stay here, fight with her people, with you. I thought that's where she belonged."

Through her sobs, Corweth lifted her head to gaze up at me. "It is where she belongs."


	10. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten**

It should have been more of a victory, but too many lives were lost at the battle of Dol Guldur. I guess you could say we won. We killed a large number of orcs, but those who did not die fled. The dark tower sat empty, though, and that had been our goal. A small number of guards were left behind to make sure the enemy didn't come back. In the meantime, Lady Galadriel would discuss what would become of that forsaken land. It was far too ruined for anything good to come from it. The land was poisoned. Nothing would ever thrive there. Burn it to the ground, I thought. Leave a pile of ash and rubble in its place, and let nature decide what to do with its remains. That place would never be anything but a symbol of death and lost hope.

I wondered what King Thranduil would do when his troops came home. Would there be a celebration like the one they had after our battle at the river? Could they really find a reason to have a feast when so many would not return home? I also wondered whether we made the right decision or not, to call Mirkwood to our side. If Lothlórien had fought this battle alone, all those Wood elves would be alive. Messel would be with her sister, not lying cold and lifeless in a stone tomb.

We offered a special place just for the fallen Mirkwood warriors, but not a single one would be left in Lothlórien. The bodies would be prepared and wrapped in their death cloths, and they would take them back to Mirkwood. That's where they belonged, they said, home under the Green Leaves.

I tried everything in my power to not think about Legolas. I didn't know why he changed his mind, and I didn't know where he was. If I let myself dwell on it, I became angry with him. He should have been with his people. Maybe not as many would have perished if he had been there to lead them. _Maybe he would have been amongst the dead_, a little voice reasoned. _At least he was alive_.

As soon as they were ready and well enough to travel, the Wood elves set out for home. I went to the borders with them, feeling it was the least I could do. Even after everything was said and done, they still respected me, looked to me as a leader and a friend. They told me I would always be welcome in Mirkwood, but somehow, I didn't think I'd ever go back there. My one reason for returning wasn't there anymore.

They filed out slowly, singing laments as they went. I'd never seen the Wood elves behave in such a somber mood. They were always bright and full of life. Now they seemed defeated, tired, but anxious to be home. I couldn't help feel guilty for their sadness. I should have been a better leader. I should have done more to protect them.

Corweth walked alongside a cart that held her sister's body, as well as other elves. Lothlórien had given them the carts and a horse for each, to help them deliver the fallen back to their homeland. I was proud of my people for their support. For the first time since I could remember, the two elf realms put aside their differences.

Corweth paused as she passed me, her eyes forlorn, tired, and red from crying. There were no tears now. She had mourned the initial shock of losing Messel, but she wouldn't be at peace until her sister was put to rest in her proper place. Corweth stood before me, unmoving, looking at the ground, like a walking corpse who couldn't take another step. She wore a dark green cloak, the hood pulled up over her head, the cloak hiding her body beneath it. Two white hands protruded from the folds of material, and took hold of my hands. They were warm, but not by much. I suddenly feared for Corweth. I thought her sister's death might be too much for her and she would succumb to the grief.

"Captain," she croaked. I didn't think she had used her voice since that day on the battlefield. "I know we've had our differences, but we both cared deeply for Messel. You were always good to her. I just want you to know that I appreciate your kindness."

"She was my friend," I whispered, squeezing Corweth's hands. "And so are you."

She looked up at me from the safety of her hood, and my heart was breaking. I hoped to never have to look into eyes of such sorrow again. "You'll come to Mirkwood again someday?" she asked, taking me by surprise. I didn't think she would care one way or the other.

I wanted to say yes, just to be polite, but I knew Corweth could see right through me. Instead, I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head. "I … I don't know. Maybe, but don't hold your breath," I said truthfully. I think she appreciated my honesty.

"If you do, I'll show you Messel's resting place. I think she would like you to see it."

"Then I'll do my best to come back, but it might not be for a very long time," I confessed.

"I understand." She feigned a smile and released my hands, turning to catch up to the cart. But she stopped and glanced over her shoulder. "If I hear anything … anything at all, I will send word."

I knew she was talking about Legolas, and I appreciated the way she told me this without saying his name. I was, after all, back in Lothlórien. That thought saddened me. I missed having the freedom of expression. "Thank you, Corweth."

* * *

><p>There was not much activity at the borders lately. I knew it was because of our recent war against the orcs, but it had been too quiet to be comfortable. Still, I went with my regiment when our time came. Usually, I liked going to the border, but without any threats, it left too much time on my hands, which let my mind wander too far.<p>

I found myself wondering about Legolas regularly. Somehow, I didn't think he'd run off with another lover, though the thought often reared its ugly head, especially when I laid in my bunk at night. I hated the nighttime worst of all. The mind played tricks in the dark. My emotions were much more stirred when I had time to draw up images, the darkness my canvas. But with the sun came clarity, and I was convinced there was another reason, but what?

Our duty had ended, and I returned with my regiment, back to the comfort of my home. I missed it, and I was glad to finally be able to sleep in my comfortable bed, eat my regular meals, visit with my brothers and talk about all the things we used to discuss. I was ready to fall back into my old routine, no scandal, no interrogations, just the boring side of me enjoying the calm of a soldier's life.

Orophin was visiting his new lady tonight, and Haldir was off somewhere in secret, probably spending the night with whoever he kept waiting while he was gone. I quickly thought of Beldor, my

'warm body' before I'd met Túron, and stopped turning to him for an evening's comfort. No, I couldn't imagine it. Too much had happened since those days. The last thing I needed was to fall back on my old ways. Besides, I still held out hope for Legolas. Messel's last message to me made it clear that what I wanted most might still be achieved. She knew he loved me. There was a reason he admitted this to her. She was a witness, in case I ever had any doubts. So, did this mean he knew he was not returning to Mirkwood, or meeting me on the battlefield? I didn't know, but I thought that he might be honest and tell me if he thought there was any chance of that not happening.

I lit a fire in the hearth, poured a glass of wine, and sat in my comfortable chair by the fire. Just as I was about to close my eyes and listen to the crackling fire, something caught my eye. It was sitting upon a shelf between my books and a box where I kept small memorabilia. The glow from the fire made it sparkle. I didn't remember putting anything there, and wondered what it was. I set my glass down on a side table and got up, going to the shelf. I gasped at what I saw. It was my mother's broach, a mallorn leaf made from green stone, set in silver mithril. I hadn't seen it in more than a year. As a matter of fact, the last time I saw it was the last night I'd spent with . . .

I reached out to pick it up when I heard a light knock on my door. Startled, I snatched my hand back from the piece of jewelry, as though it was an animal about to bite. The knock came again, this time a little louder, a little more demanding. My mind jumped to conclusions about my visitor, but no, it couldn't be. My heart beat rapidly, and I forgot about the broach for the moment. The door was suddenly a thousand leagues away, but somehow I managed to reach for the handle and open it. And there stood my past staring back at me.

"Hello, Rúmil," he smiled cautiously.

I forgot how to speak. I forgot how to breathe. I thought I was seeing a ghost or my mind was playing tricks.

"Túron," I whispered disbelievingly.

He looked behind him, searching the shadows. "Can … can I come in?"

Everything came flooding back to me. Túron could not be here. If anyone should see him at my door . . . I stepped aside as a gesture of admittance, and he came in. I quickly closed my door. "What are you doing in Lothlórien?"

"I arrived while you were away at the border," he said. "I, uh, had something important to report … about orcs gathering in Isengard."

"You went to Isengard?" I questioned. In the letter he'd left me, he said he was going towards Gondor.

Túron shook his head. "Not at first. I was traveling through the Wold, and came across the nephew of the King of Rohan, who told me about the activity there."

"The Wold? What on earth were you doing there?"

"The road towards Gondor had become too dangerous to navigate, so I went towards Rohan. I came upon a village here and there, and they took me in, in exchange for my wisdom. I came back to Lórien as soon as I found out what was transpiring in Isengard."

I couldn't believe Túron was here. I almost didn't hear what he was saying. My brain was still trying to comprehend it all. I closed my eyes and shook my head in disbelief. "You've been gone for a year, no word, not even the smallest note, and suddenly here you are."

"I couldn't write to you. You know that. It was too much of a risk." He took a step closer to me. "But I thought about you every day. Rúmil, I've missed you."

"I … I've m-missed you too," I stammered. "I'm sorry, I'm still trying to comprehend this."

"It's alright. I know what a shock it must be to you."

"That's putting it mildly."

He watched my reaction, keeping his distance, unsure of what I might say or do. I wasn't sure myself. Here I'd just started a new chapter in my life, and now Túron was back. I decided it was better to keep things on a professional level. "So, tell me about Isengard."

"As I said, the roads were becoming dangerous. I thought it best to head south. It was there that I heard the rumors about Saruman. So, I decided to find out for sure, and traveled to Isengard to see for myself. It was complete devastation, Rúmil. Whole forests had been destroyed. The river had been dammed, and fires burned where water once flowed. The sound of clanking metal never ceased. The orcs were making weapons and armor, helmets with a white hand upon them. Saruman is raising a massive army for war." As Túron spoke of what he saw, his eyes emptied of everything but fear. He was no longer seeing me or the inside of my home. He was looking past that, back to the scene he had witnessed at Isengard, and he was truly afraid.

"Are they coming to Lothlórien?" I asked, bringing his attention back to me.

He shook his head. "I don't know where they will go first, but it's likely they will not stop until every realm is broken and under Saruman's rule." As though he couldn't stand it any longer, Túron rushed towards me and wrapped his arms around me. He buried his face in my neck and whispered. "I've missed you. I've missed you so much."

By instinct, I held him to me, shushed him, comforted him in my embrace, but something was different. The last time we were like this, I held him as though I never wanted to let him go. Now, I could feel my hesitation, and the need to release him. He must have felt it too, because he let go and stood back from me. "I … I'm sorry. I know it's been a long time, and we didn't part under the best circumstances . . ."

"I'm just … I'm shocked to see you. This was … unexpected."

"I know, and I shouldn't be here. Haldir warned me not to–"

"Haldir knows you're here?" I asked.

"Of course. He was present for the council. Soon, everyone will know I've returned." By everyone, I knew he meant Raenor. "But before word spreads, I just needed to see you." He came towards me again, but my instincts caused me to react before my brain told me to, and I backed away.

"I can't," I said softly.

He stopped and didn't come any closer. The look upon his face was tearing me apart inside, but I couldn't, not now. "I'm … sorry. It was a mistake to come here." Túron turned to leave.

"You can't just show up here after a year and expect everything to go back to the way it was," I said. He stopped, but he didn't turn towards me.

"Maybe that's exactly what I thought, Rúmil." There was a bitter edge to his words.

"When you left, I mourned. I grieved as though I'd lost you. It took me a long time to find my way back, and I've learned some things along the way," I told him.

"What have you learned … that you don't love me anymore?" he said, hurt.

"No, Túron, but I've discovered what my love for you was all about." I stepped towards him and grasped his shoulder. He looked at me from the corner of his eye. "When we met, I was swept off my feet. And just as quickly, I was dropped into an abyss of loneliness. It made me question the reality of it all. It was too much, too fast. And now . . ." I turned away, my heart breaking. "You know our situation. You know what happened, and the reason you had to leave. I thought I could handle it, but it almost destroyed me, and I can't go through that again." I bowed my head, shaking it slowly back and forth.

"I assumed too much by coming here. The last thing I want to do is to cause you any more pain. I should go," he said saddened.

"But I–" I shouldn't do this, I thought, and cut myself short from asking him to stay.

"But you … what?" he asked hopefully, eyes filling with the same.

"I … I … think you are right. You should go," I said.

He looked me deep in the eyes, searching for something. "You've changed."

And that was when I realized just what had changed. I was more confident than this. As a matter of fact, I'd never been so sure of myself and my feelings. When I learned that Legolas was not coming to Dol Guldur, my heart seized up, the dome was rebuilt and the moth put away in its cage, but it was not because of the dreaded curse. Damn the curse. I was not building walls to keep everyone out. I was merely saving my heart until Legolas came back. Whether he knew he was returning from Rivendell or not, it didn't matter. He promised me he would be back. He confessed his love for me to Messel, knowing that she would tell me if ever I had any doubts about him. I should never have questioned whether I knew Legolas or not. I did, or I would not have given him my heart.

"Yes. Yes I have changed. I'm not the same elf that you left behind, Túron. I've seen more of the world around us. I know who I am now, and I'm much more than a soldier. I have much more to contribute." With my self-inspiring speech finished, I looked at Túron to find him smiling.

"I've always known this about you, Rúmil. I'm glad to see that you've finally realized it, too." His smile faded as he turned from me. "Whoever he is, he must be very special to have gifted you with such confidence."

He caught me off guard with that last sentence. "Wh-who?"

Túron gave a huff of a laugh. "Whoever it is that holds your heart now. I'll admit that I am a bit jealous that he accomplished what I wished I could have done."

"Túron, I–"

"No, don't explain. I know. I had my chance, but things weren't meant to be. Duty got in the way," he said sadly.

What was I to say? I never meant to tell him about Legolas, not unless he asked, but he already guessed it. "I'd never loved anyone before you," I said, feeling like a fool for saying it.

"But you love him more."

"It's a different kind of love," I tried to explain.

"That's what I thought we had."

"Túron, don't do this, please. I did not set out to find someone. For almost a year, you were all I thought about. But look at us. Look at our situation. How were we ever going to be able to make something work?"

"How will you make this new relationship work, Rúmil? Will you leave the army, abandon Lothlórien? What is different now?" he questioned, bitterness edging his words.

"He does not live here, and we can be together without worry in his home." I wasn't sure why I was telling him this, but I needed him to understand. I still had feelings for Túron. I didn't want to hurt him anymore than he was already hurting.

"And that is the only reason?" he asked.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Túron. I met someone who I could not help but give my heart to. I trust him with it. I know he will not abandon me, even though he . . ." I stopped myself.

"Even though what?" Túron said, eyeing me.

"I'm not going to discuss this with you. The fact is, what we had–"

"No," he stopped me. "The fact is, he _has_ abandoned you, isn't it?"

"That is not true. Our plans were altered, that's all," I defended.

"Our plans were altered too, but I held out hope for us. Do you remember what we told each other on our last night together? One way or another, we would find a way. You didn't try very hard. And now this new lover has broken some kind of promise to you, and here I am, finally returned to you. Does that not count for something? I've come back to you, Rúmil. I said I would, and here I am. Where is he?" He looked around my talan. "Come out, come out." Túron's eyes settled on me once again. "He's not here, but I am."

"He will be here. I don't know when or how long, but he will come. I'm done explaining. I don't want to have this conversation with you. Túron, I can't explain how the heart works. I was caught off guard too. And I'll not make excuses for this change of events. I loved you once, and that was no lie. I still care deeply for you and for your well-being. But I cannot be your lover anymore. Maybe things would have happened some other way if our situation had been different, but it is what it is. We tried, and it was good for a while. I have no regrets. If I have failed you, I am sorry, but I can't go back."

He looked at me, sadness and anger in his eyes. "I'm sorry too." Then he left.

* * *

><p>A few weeks went by without much happening. No news came our way. It was quiet, but at least now I knew the reason why. The White Wizard, Saruman was up to no good it seemed, drawing orcs to him, building an army, but where would they strike? Lothlórien decided to stay neutral for the time being, just until we learned more. However, we would be ready at a moment's notice if we were called into action.<p>

I hadn't seen Túron around, and I thought that he had left Lothlórien. I felt terrible about our last conversation. He tried to be understanding, but in the end he was hurt. I was hurting too. The last thing I wanted was to lose him again, but maybe this was for the best. It was such an awkward situation to be in. I couldn't deny that my own emotions had been stirred by seeing Túron again. I was reminded of how good it had been between us, when we would pretend to be friends during the day, and then turn into passionate lovers at night. It was such an exciting time. But when I laid in my bed, alone, at night, it was thoughts and memories of Mirkwood and Legolas that made me feel more alive than I'd ever felt with Túron. Where my heart might have felt a twinge to think about Túron, it leapt and pulsed against my ribs when I thought of Legolas. I missed him tremendously, but I still didn't know what happened to him. Where was he? Why hadn't he written or sent a messenger? Had he ever returned to Mirkwood? I just didn't know anything. Corweth said she would notify me as soon as she heard anything, but nothing came for me, no note, nothing. He must not have returned home.

Although things were tense on the outside of our borders, it was important to still have a daily routine within the city of Caras Galadhon. One of the popular pastimes, lately, was to listen to storytellers read to an audience of eager listeners. There were a few elves who could tell a story very colorfully. It did not matter that we knew the story like the backs of our hands. It was like listening to it for the first time, the way a few of the readers would tell it. I had been to a couple readings with my brothers. It was very entertaining, and it helped to get our minds off of everything, if even for a short while. There was another reading tonight, but Haldir had a meeting and Orophin was going with his lady. He invited me to join them, but I didn't feel right about it.

And then, I was making my way to my office after a quick meal, when I happened upon Túron. He was walking with another ellon, someone I wasn't familiar with. Túron hadn't seen me yet, but I saw him. He was standing with the young ellon, halfway across one of the many connecting bridges. They were looking out across the city, talking and smiling, getting to know each other, I thought. That was a good thing. Túron was moving on. Very good indeed.

The young elf moved his hand, resting it on the middle of Túron's back. The gesture was very obvious. The youth was interested, but Túron did not respond right away. His gaze continued to focus on the forest. The other looked disappointed, I thought, as he removed his hand. At that point, Túron turned his attention to his guest, and gave him a sweet smile. It seemed genuine enough to convince the ellon, but I knew him better. It was a forced smile, one of a person still harboring feelings for another.

The last thing he needed was to spot me, so I ducked my head and started to turn around and head in the opposite direction. But at the last second, before my eyes could look away, I saw him glance my way.

"I'll see you tomorrow, maybe," I heard Túron say to the interested youth, and I knew he was coming in pursuit. His hurried tread verified my assumptions. "Rúmil!" he called out. I couldn't pretend I hadn't heard him, so I stopped and turned.

"Hello, Túron. I hope you are well," I said in a tranquil manner.

"Everything is fine. Are, uh … are you busy at the moment?"

"Just heading back to my office. Why?"

His hand went to the back of his neck as he looked at his feet. "Listen, I've had time to think about our conversation the other day, and I feel that I need to apologize for my behavior."

"Túron, you don't need–"

"No, no. I need to say this or it will haunt me. I should never have put you on the spot like that. It's just … I haven't seen you for a very long time. I was expecting a different outcome and my emotions got the better of me. For that I am truly sorry."

"It's alright. I've given it some thought also, and I shouldn't have expected you to understand or accept my choice. It was just such a shock to see you at my door."

"That was my fault. I should have sent word or something before barging back into your life. In all actuality, I'm glad you're happy. I'm sad that it's not me who's responsible for your joy, and I wish we had a second chance, but that's just something I must learn to deal with.

"It looks like you're dealing with it pretty well already," I said, gesturing towards the ellon he had been speaking with. He was still standing at the other end of the walkway. Túron turned to see him wave and waved back, if not a little unenthusiastically.

"He's just a friend," Túron said, and I had already come to that conclusion on my own.

"Seems like he's interested in more than friendship."

Túron actually blushed, and I'd forgotten how becoming a tinge of color on his cheeks was. "Yes, I got that notion too. I don't know," he said, shaking his head and looking at the ground. "Besides, I don't know how much longer I will be in Lothlórien."

"You're not leaving already, are you?" I asked.

"Well, there's not much going on here, and I like to stay on the move when I'm not needed."

"Actually, when I hadn't seen you over the past few weeks, I assumed you had left already. I'm glad you're still here and that we got to talk."

"So am I," he admitted.

I knew I should have just walked away at this point, but things still felt awkward and unsettled. I really didn't want that unease hanging between us. "Have you been to one of the readings before? There is one tonight that I thought I would attend. There's an excellent speaker lined up who makes the story come to life. One of the best I've ever had the pleasure hearing. Haldir is busy and Orophin is going with his lady. If you have no other plans . . ." It was just a simple evening of storytelling, I justified. I wasn't doing anything improper.

"You make it difficult to refuse," Túron said with a grin. "Alright, I'll meet you there."

"I'll reserve our seats." I smiled and grasped his shoulder. "Thank you," I said with sincerity.

Túron seemed happy with my invitation, but as he looked past me, his smile faded. I followed his gaze, and found Raenor watching us from afar. He seemed to be in conversation with some of his friends, but his eyes were glued to us.

"Maybe this is a bad idea," Túron said. "Perhaps I shouldn't–"

"Don't let him influence you." I kept my eyes trained on my adversary.

"But aren't you worried about–"

"Raenor will never stop. Greed for power drives him. I cannot look over my shoulder all the time. It is no way to live. But if he wants to spend his time tracking me and trying to find a way to discredit me, then he will never find what he seeks, because I will not give him the chance." I spoke with confidence and looked straight at Raenor as I did. He looked away, but arrogance curled the corners of his mouth. He'd not find anything on me.

"If you're sure then," Túron said uneasily.

"I will see you tonight." I smiled at Túron and he smiled back. Then we parted ways, but not before I gave Raenor one more hard glare. Just let him try to start something. It would be my joy to make him look like a fool.

Later that evening, Túron met me for the reading. We had a nice time within each other's company. I was surprised at how easily we fell back into our enjoyable routine. We used to go to all kinds of events together, and since we could only appear as friends back then, there had been no tension. There was now, though, and I thought it might have been the incident with Raenor that made Túron uneasy. Well, I'd not lie and say that I was not a bit fidgety either, but it wasn't because of my nemesis. Being with Túron stirred up old memories and feelings, but it was nothing I could not handle. As the evening progressed, things eased between us. I couldn't just ignore him, after all. So, we had been lovers, but we had been friends too. My stay in Mirkwood had taught me not to throw something important to the wayside, no matter what it was. Túron was still important to me. I had loved him once, and I grieved when he was gone. But he was back now, and though I would not revisit certain aspects of our past relationship because of my feelings for Legolas, I would not toss away our friendship either. My heart was safe and secure within the glass dome, and now I knew that only Legolas could remove it.

After the entertainment had ended, Túron and I walked along the pathways heading towards our homes, speaking like friends, making small talk and whatnot. We came to the point where we went off in separate directions, and stopped.

"Thank you for inviting me tonight. She really was an excellent speaker. I felt like I was inside the story," Túron said with a smile.

"I told you, you wouldn't be disappointed. I'm glad you came with me. This was fun."

"It really was."

I placed my hand over my heart and bowed. "I will see you around the city, I hope."

"I'm sure you will." He returned the bow and we went our separate ways.

I didn't get far when suddenly Raenor popped out onto my path. I couldn't help feeling that he'd been following Túron and me tonight, and I wouldn't put it past him to behave so blatantly. "Nice evening for stalking from the shadows," I said.

"Stirring up old friendships, are you?" he asked condescendingly.

"Actually, yes. Túron is an old friend," I said arrogantly.

"Who was caught with one of your soldiers … in your office, I might add."

"Are you really going to bring this up again? Have I not been interrogated enough?"

"Your brother did well to protect you. Sent you off on a campaign and then to Mirkwood. Avoiding the obvious, if you ask me," Raenor accused.

"I was fulfilling my duty as requested by the March warden. Haldir may be my brother, but he is my commanding officer as far as the army is concerned. I was avoiding nothing." I stuck my chin into the air pugnaciously. "I will not stand here and explain myself to you." I walked away.

"You know, I always thought it was Haldir, but I could never find any evidence to support my suspicions. Perhaps I've been wrong this whole time," he called to me, but I ignored his arrogance and kept on my path home.

* * *

><p>The next day, I paid a visit to Haldir in his office. It was early enough in the morning that not many were about and we could talk without interruption.<p>

"You're here awfully early," he greeted me as I entered through the door, shutting it behind me.

"Thought you might like to know that I had a minor run-in with Raenor last night as I was coming home from the reading, which, by the way, you missed a very entertaining evening."

"I do regret it. She's one of my favorite readers. Now, what's this about Raenor?"

"He's just up to his old tricks again, making accusations, raising suspicions. Túron and I were simply walking along–"

"Wait," Haldir interrupted. "You were with Túron?"

"Yes, we went to the reading together, and were engaged in conversation as we were going back to our homes." My brows creased as I eyes him. "Don't tell me you have a problem with this also."

"Rúmil, after everything that happened, don't you think–"

"I think that Túron and I have made peace and managed to find a way to continue a friendship. That's all. Nothing more," I defended.

Haldir breathed deep and let it out slowly. "I don't say this often, for I find Raenor positively despicable, but I have to agree with him about suspicions being raised."

"What?" I blurted out, shocked that my brother would side with our adversary.

"What transpired last year was quite the scandal around here, and for you to be seen with Túron, especially after all that happened . . ." He lowered his voice as though someone might overhear him. "And how close you came to being … discovered … well, I would think that you'd want to keep your distance. People talk, Rúmil. Don't give them fuel to feed their gossiping fire."

"You, of all people, I would expect to understand this. There is nothing going on between us. I wouldn't. I couldn't, not now that I've . . ." I stopped before I revealed too much. "The point is, my heart does not belong to Túron anymore."

"Your feelings for him were quite strong at one time. And now you're telling me that you are only friends?" Haldir gave me a skeptical eye.

"I told you, I met someone in Mirkwood," I justified.

"Yes, but I didn't think it meant that you gave your heart away. You're in love with this Wood elf, aren't you?"

"This is not the time or the place to discuss my personal life," I complained.

Haldir leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. I could tell he wanted to find out more about it, but he could also see that I wasn't willing to divulge any more information. "The fact remains that your past friendship with Túron raised more than a few eyebrows. To rekindle that friendship now could cause those same people to–"

I slammed my fist down on his desk. This was enough, more than I could handle. "Why should I have to keep rearranging my life to please everyone else? I'm tired of it, Haldir. If they want to talk, let them talk. I can't do this anymore. I just can't."

"As long as you are a soldier in this army, you must," he commanded, no longer speaking to me as a brother, but rather, as an officer. He lowered his tone and continued. "I don't know what transpired in Mirkwood, but you have changed, Rúmil."

"Maybe I am overdue for a change," I seethed.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" Haldir said with a kind of warning in his tone that said I was treading dangerous waters.

"I'm saying that not all of their traditions in Mirkwood are farfetched."

"Like the fact that you chose to stay with the Wood elven soldiers instead of coming to the aid of your brother when I called upon you?" There was venom in his tone, and internally I cringed.

"That is not fair. I stayed behind because Messel was injured beyond saving." That day was still too horribly clear in my mind. Haldir requested the aid of me and my troops, and though I sent most of my men to join his, I couldn't find the will to leave her side. "I was put in command of the Wood elves, and as their Captain, I chose to stay with a soldier in need." I paused and turned my head away from my brother, as I felt the heat of tears building behind my eyes. "She was dying, Haldir. What else was I supposed to do?"

The room was silent for the better of a minute. "You're right and I'm sorry," he apologized. Silence fell between us once again. I went to the bookshelf and ran my fingers along the spine of one of the books red leather binding, red like the blood spilled that day. I heard Haldir shift in his chair, or perhaps he stood. I couldn't be sure. "You were close?" he asked silently.

I nodded before I spoke further. "Messel and her sister, Corweth, were the first Wood elves that I came across on my visit. They were my escorts to the palace."

"Corweth I know. She was usually present for my meetings with the Prince. Messel, I did not know."

"Corweth and I had our differences, but it was Messel that always made time for me, taught me about Mirkwood. She was a dear friend, and I miss her very much," I explained quietly. I swallowed and regained my composure, turning to face Haldir. "One day I'll return to Mirkwood and visit her burial site. I owe her that much."

Haldir stood and came to my side, handing me a paper with my latest orders. I took it, but he did not release it, and I looked up at him. "Who is he?" he asked with sincere curiosity.

"He is someone very special, someone I trust deeply." That's all I would say. I was not ready to reveal his identity.

Haldir nodded and gave a smile. "I can see that you experienced something unique while you were away. It's changed you, and I'm happy for you. But whatever happened, you cannot enforce the same kind of behavior here in Lothlórien. I wish it could be different, but it is not."

"No, it's not," I said with sadness, and I left Haldir's office.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

It was the middle of the night when I was awakened by Orophin. Still half asleep, I glared at him in the darkness of my bedroom. "So now you don't even knock?" I complained groggily. The spark of a flint strike blinded my vision as my brother lit a lantern on the table. I held my hand over my eyes until they adjusted to the light. Taking another look at Orophin in the dimness, I could see that something important was happening. The seriousness of his countenance shook the last vestiges of sleep from my eyes, and I was wide awake. "What is it?" I said tersely.

"Get dressed. I'll explain on the way," he said.

I was out of bed and putting on my leggings as he gathered my quiver and bow. "Weapons?"

"Haldir said to meet him at the gates," Orophin said. Now he had my sword too. I was searching for my shirt and tunic while pulling on my boots.

"The gates? What's happening? Are we being attacked?" I asked with extreme concern.

Orophin shook his head as he looked towards me. I was still naked from the waist up, struggling to turn my shirt right-side-out. "No, it's not an attack. The Lady Galadriel called us to duty."

"The troops?"

"No, just us."

I was shocked to know this. I had never been called on personally by Lady Galadriel. "I don't understand."

"She said she has an important mission, and that it must be carried out by the Lórien Three." This was the name the people of Lórien referred to when speaking of me and my two brothers.

"This must be very important," I pondered to myself.

"It is. Now, hurry. Haldir's waiting. I've got your weapons."

I was finally dressed and took the quiver from Orophin, strapping it across my back. I sheathed my sword at my side and kept my bow in my hand. "Ready," I announced and we were off.

As we approached the gates, I could see Haldir, but he was not alone. Then at a closer look, I realized that the cloaked figure next to my oldest brother was Lady Galadriel. I couldn't even begin to imagine what was happening. No army was called, just us.

She turned towards Orophin and me as we came closer. In all my long years, I'd only seen her half a dozen or so times. Lady Galadriel was a mystery to me. I'd had dealings with Lord Celeborn much more often, but never her. Galadriel's eyes were stunning, rimmed with the light of the first trees, full of wisdom and love. I knew for a fact that she was a very powerful elf, one of the most important figures in Middle-earth. I still couldn't understand why she'd called on Orophin and me. Haldir … yes, because he has met with her on many occasions. As March warden, it is one of his duties.

"Ah," she greeted with the warmest and loveliest of smiles. "There they are, my most trusted Captains."

Orophin and I both stopped immediately and bowed. It didn't seem like enough. I almost thought that we should take a knee, but I knew that wasn't necessary.

"My most gracious Lady," my brother and I said in unison. Galadriel smiled, almost in a shy fashion.

"Lady Galadriel has summoned us for a significant matter, which must be kept between us and no one else," Haldir informed us.

"Yes," Galadriel continued. "I have had a vision. Well, not so much a vision, as it is more of an awareness. Something of great influence approaches the Golden Woods. I feel that it is concealed by someone. I also sense dread and anguish. The closer it gets to our home, the stronger the emotions grow. I have my suspicions as to what this is, which I shall not disclose to any of you. Your mission is to set out for the borders and find this intruder. Haldir, I will communicate with you. You shall be my eyes and ears. Your brothers will be your guards."

"My lady, is it not wise to have some of the border patrol on call, just in case these are orcs that you sense?" I inquired.

"It is not orcs, and it is not an army," she answered confidently.

"What shall we do once we come across whoever it is we are looking for?" Orophin asked.

"I want them escorted directly to me. You are to keep this matter between yourselves and no one else. I will deal with this personally."

"As you wish," Haldir said.

Galadriel wrapped her long fingers around his arm and nodded. "I'm sorry to have pulled you from your beds only to send you out with more questions than I have answers for, but this is a very critical matter and its secrecy is eminent. There is no one I trust more than the three of you." Then she turned and walked back towards the city, leaving me and my brothers at the gate with our mysterious mission ahead of us. Haldir gestured towards the gates with a tilt of his head. It was time to be on our way.

We waited until we were well away from the protective walls of Caras Galadhon before we spoke to one another. I think we were all very curious and confused by this strange turn of events.

"She didn't tell you anything before we arrived?" Orophin asked.

"Nothing, except that we should go east," Haldir answered, mind set on his duty.

"What or who do you think we are supposed to look for?" I asked with curiosity.

"I have no idea, but I suppose we will know when we find it."

* * *

><p>We were nearing the end of our first day out with no sign of anything strange, when off in the distance we saw movement through the trees. Haldir signaled for us to take cover, and we did.<p>

At first, I just heard the unsavory grumbling of a dissatisfied being. It wasn't an elvish voice. It was too gruff, like grit in my ears. Haldir seemed bothered by it also. He moved to get a better view. Haldir would approach the stranger silently and cut him off. Orophin and I would wait for him before making ourselves known. I listened as this unhappy traveler went on about outsmarting the elves, thinking himself superior to my kind. Whoever he was, he was loud, not at all a good strategy when entering into the realm of Lothlórien. No one got past our borders without being found, but this individual seemed to want to be heard, I thought to myself. That made me even more skeptical, and I focused on the voice. And then Haldir was upon him, arrow aimed at his hairy head. That's when I realized that it was a dwarf, but what was a dwarf doing in these parts? Typically, they stayed as far from elvish realms as possible. I heard Haldir make some snide comment, using his dry humor that only Orophin and I found funny. But what was a lone dwarf doing in—

Then I realized he was not alone. Through the thick branches and leaves, I could just make out two more figures. Both were men. One was tall with dark hair and a long black coat. The other was of the same height, but with lighter colored hair, and dressed like a man of Gondor, or rather, a soldier.

"Wait! Wait! This is all a misunderstanding!" said the dark haired man. "We mean you no harm. We come looking for help."

I could see the dwarf's face, the nervousness at having an elf aiming his arrow at him. Haldir was very intimidating looking, especially when he felt threatened. Although, these travelers seemed submissive, Haldir would take every precaution.

"How many of you are there?" Haldir demanded.

"There were nine of us, but we lost someone in Moria," the man admitted. "Please, we have nowhere else to go."

A new set of voices chimed in. "Yes, we've seen horrible things, and we need time to recover."

Two halflings seemed to appear from the underbrush, and then two more. I'd never seen the like, though I'd heard about Hobbits before. My arrow was still trained on the dwarf, but my arm loosened a bit, mainly due to my shock of seeing all these different races together. Orophin and I were still in hiding, and they hadn't seen us. If any of these people thought they might overwhelm Haldir, we would be there in an instant, bows at the ready.

Haldir looked around at the group, silently counting heads. "You said there were nine, but you lost one. Yet I only count seven before me." He whistled, our signal to come out of hiding. Instantly, Orophin and I were at Haldir's side.

The tall man in the black coat turned around, searching for his missing companion. "He was here a moment ago," he said, more to himself.

My eyes darted left then right, looking for the last person, when someone came running up to this eclectic group. He burst through the thick leaves and our eyes connected.

"Legolas?" I said in a whisper, lowering my bow. Every muscles went lax as shock and disbelief ran through me.

He looked terrible, with bruises and scratches, and a well-defined bump on his forehead. He was thin and much paler than I'd ever seen him. Sorrow sat on his brow, hope lost from his blue eyes. He looked like an elf defeated many times over.

"Rúmil," he answered in a wisp of breath tinged with the relief of having seen someone he recognized. He took two steps towards me, as if he'd meant to run to me, and paused. Legolas' eyes went from Haldir to Orophin, but when they came back to me, he seemed to say, 'I don't care who knows anymore. I just need to hold you.' And I couldn't help but feel the same. So I went to him, and we at least grasped arms. To feel his hand upon me rekindled every emotion of our last moments together all those months ago.

"What happened to you?" I asked with a furrowed brow. "You never came to Dol Guldur."

"It's a very long story, and one that I don't have time to tell at the moment," he said, looking past my shoulder to Haldir. Then he released me and stepped aside. "March warden," he bowed, hand over heart.

"You know these … elves?" the dwarf asked, as though saying it burned his tongue. Legolas ignored him.

I waited to see what Haldir would do. After all, it wasn't my place to make any decisions here. My oldest brother was in charge. For the moment, he refrained from acknowledging Legolas, and focused his attention on the rest of the group. Something was bothering him, as though he sensed a disturbance. I watched as he looked from one being to the next, his eyes finally settling on one of the hobbits. They narrowed on the Halfling, who took a step sideways behind the Gondorian.

"Who leads this group?" Haldir demanded. He looked to Legolas, but he shook his head slow and slight.

"We lost our leader," said the man in the black coat. "Back in Moria, but he told me his plans beforehand, and he'd meant for us to come to Lothlórien. From there, I do not know where he had intended for us to go. I was hoping someone here could help us."

Haldir looked around one more time, and then stuck his chin out pugnaciously. "You can go no further."

A disbelieving mumble came from the group. Even Orophin and I were confused by Haldir's decision. The dark haired man stepped forward. "Please, March warden, if you will just let us–"

"I said no further," Haldir said rather strictly.

The dwarf said something in his own tongue, aimed at my brother. The dark haired man rounded on the dwarf and pushed him away, but Haldir stepped towards him, eyes turned dark and murderous. I'd never seen my brother like this before. He was not behaving normally, and I wasn't sure what was happening.

"Take one more step into this realm, and it will be your grave … Dwarf," Haldir seethed.

That's when Legolas intervened. He got between Haldir and the dwarf, looked sympathetically at the man in the coat, and turned to my brother. "May I speak with you … in private?"

Haldir seemed to force himself to look away from the dwarf, and faced Legolas. Legolas glanced towards me. "And Rúmil too?" he asked.

Haldir collected himself and nodded. Then he gestured for me to come with them. Lastly, he told Orophin to stay and keep watch over the group while we discussed things with Legolas. Orophin nodded and turned to the travelers, arrow fixed to his bow, though he held it loosely.

"Will this take a while?" I heard one of the Hobbits ask.

"When it comes to elves, there's no telling," said another.

Haldir, Legolas and I walked a little ways from where Orophin kept watch over the group. Once we were out of earshot, Legolas looked at Haldir with begging eyes. "May I properly greet your brother?"

"You have one minute," Haldir said, and he walked a few steps away from us.

Instantly, Legolas grabbed me and pulled me to him. He buried his face in my neck and sighed. "I've missed you. I've missed you so much. Forgive me, Rúmil. Please don't be upset with me. I can explain all this."

"Just tell me what happened? You were supposed to meet me in battle. And then Corweth and Messel told me that you never returned to Mirkwood either. So many things ran through my mind."

"I knew you'd think horrible things. That's why I told Messel to tell you that … She told you, didn't she? Did she relay my message?" he asked with desperation.

"She said you confessed your love for me."

"I did. I told her that should she find you questioning our relationship, she was to tell you." He smiled and cupped my shoulder. "I knew I could count on Messel. When I return home, I will make sure she–" His words drifted off as he saw the pain in my eyes. "What? What is it?"

I found that I couldn't speak of her death. I swallowed the lump that threatened to rise at the back of my throat, bowed my head and shook it from side to side. Legolas' head fell and he released a whimper as he realized what I was telling him. "No, not Messel." He stayed that way a moment, but lifted his eyes to ask, "And what of Corweth?"

"She is alive, but she's taken Messel's death rather hard. I fear for her." I suddenly felt anger bubbling from deep within, hostility that I'd managed to keep buried up until now. I hadn't realized it was there before, but now I couldn't keep it in any longer. "A lot of Wood elves lost their lives at Dol Guldur. I led them as best I could … but … but . . . Damn it! You should have been there! They were your soldiers! They were your people, not mine! You should have fucking been there to lead them! Not … gallivanting around with these … these … I don't even know who they are." I was yelling, having lost my patience. "You abandoned your people … you abandoned me for them? How are complete strangers more important than your people?"

"I had to, Rúmil. I had to go with them. I swore an oath to help them accomplish the most important of tasks."

"More important than the one you swore your love to?" I challenged in a low dark tone. "You promised you'd come back."

"I know, and it tore at my heart to think of you waiting for me, and then finding that I'd disappeared."

"And what about my heart!" I yelled again. "I trusted you with it, with my very life, and you abandoned me without a single word. Not a note, not a message, nothing."

"I couldn't tell anyone what I was doing or where I was going. Please, let me speak with Haldir, and then, if he allows us into the city, I will explain everything to you. But for right now, I need to see these people to safety. Will you help me convince your brother to let us stay, to let us speak with the Lord and Lady of Caras Galadhon?"

At that point, Haldir came back. "I need no convincing, Legolas. They cannot stay. I sense something. The Lady senses it as well. One of them carries something … evil. I will not allow it into my home and put everyone here in jeopardy. You, I will allow, but the rest must leave."

Legolas hardly had the strength to argue. He looked absolutely beaten down. But at the mention of the others having to stay behind, he straightened his posture and looked my brother in the eye. "If they cannot enter the city, then neither will I."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Legolas was choosing these strangers over his own kind. "This is an elvish realm," I argued. "You know how strictly protected it is here. We cannot just let anyone into the city, especially strange men, a dwarf and Hobbits."

"I have been with these people since we left Rivendell. We have been through the most challenging times, seen horrors that will haunt me until I fade, and none of us has abandoned the other. I cannot and will not leave them now for the comforts of the city." Legolas was very serious, and I believed him, though it was breaking my spirit. And here I thought seeing each other after such a long absence would be enough to convince him to stay.

Just then, the man in the black coat appeared at the edge of the small clearing where we had been discussing things. He cleared his throat to make his presence known, and waited until he was acknowledged.

"And just who are you?" Haldir asked with annoyance.

Legolas spoke for him. "This is Strider, one of the Dúnedain, but you might know him better as Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

Aragorn bowed with much respect in the style of the elves. I was surprised to see this. He must know something of our ways. Haldir seemed a little thrown off by this also. Perhaps he was expecting a confrontation, but this man just wanted to be heard.

"If you are worried about any of these people, I can assure you that we are peaceful, and I take full responsibility for each and every one," Aragorn offered. "I am begging for your help. If you'll just tell the Lady Galadriel that I am here, I think you'll be surprised to see that she knows who I am. I have been to Lothlórien before, though it has been a while."

"That may be so, but there is still the matter of this … evil that hangs over your companions. I cannot, in my right mind, allow it into my home. It is my job to protect the realm," Haldir said.

"And I understand your concern, but–" Aragorn cut himself short as he noticed Haldir close his eyes and furrow his brow. I kept watch over him, remembering what Galadriel had said about him being her eyes and ears. She was speaking to him.

Legolas seemed confused too, and he looked at me as though to ask, 'Is everything alright?' I gave a slight nod and continued to observe my brother. It didn't take long, and he opened his eyes, focusing them on Aragorn.

"Fine, you may pass into the city, but there is one thing that must be done first," Haldir mentioned.

We made our way back to the group of strangers, and Haldir spoke to them. "The Lady of the Golden Wood has given her permission to allow all of you into the city, but it is for my own satisfaction that I request the dwarf wear a blindfold."

"A blindfold?" the dwarf grumbled. "Why, the nerve of–"

"Gimli," Aragorn interrupted. "I told him you would agree to this."

"And since when do you speak for me," the dwarf complained.

"You have only two choices, Master Dwarf. Stay here or be blindfolded," Haldir offered again.

"And why is it only me who must be blinded?" he argued.

Legolas went to the dwarf and rested his hand upon his companions shoulder, speaking to Haldir. "If you will blindfold Gimli, then I shall suffer with him."

"Legolas," Haldir said. "There is no need–"

"No," Legolas interrupted. "He is my friend and I trust him with my life. But if you do not trust him, then you do not trust me."

Certainly, Haldir would change his mind, I thought. If I knew anything it was that Legolas was an excellent judge of character, and though I found it odd that he'd befriended a dwarf, I believed him to be serious.

"He'll have us tripping over every root and stepping on every stone," Gimli accused. "There's no need for both of us to suffer."

"As I have stood up for you, Gimli, I will also defend Haldir and say that he will not torture your feet or mine," Legolas said. Although he was chivalrous and coming to this dwarf's defense, I could tell by the exhaustion in his eyes that Legolas really didn't want to do this. But he was as stubborn as his father, and I knew he would follow through on his word. I also knew that Haldir had an extreme dislike for dwarves, and that he would not change his mind about the blindfold.

My thoughts about this were confirmed as I watched my brother take a rag and rip it into two pieces. He handed one to Orophin and one to me. "Let's go. We don't have all day."

Naturally, I went to Legolas, looked him in the eye and shook my head. "You don't need to do this. Haldir knows you and trusts you. It's the company you keep that he is suspicious of."

"And I am a part of this company," Legolas said, closing his eyes. I walked around him until I stood at his back and wrapped the rag around his head. As I tied a knot, I felt his shoulders jostle. "Enjoying yourself?" he teased in a seductive whisper.

"No," I replied without mirth. "Not at all."

"Oh, come now. Don't tell me you've never fantasized about this before … blinding me, having your way with me," he jested.

"You keep your wanton thoughts to yourself, or I'll be sure to guide your feet over every stone," I reprimanded, but he huffed a laugh of disbelief towards my threats.

It would take us longer than normal to reach the city, but that gave me time to consider what was happening. Four Hobbits, two Men, a dwarf and an elf, all traveling together. It was an odd combination to be sure, and I wondered how this group had formed.

I was Legolas' guide, since he could not see, but I doubted he needed anyone to show him the way. He was an elf, after all, gifted with the most acute senses of all the beings in Middle-earth. Still, I was unusually glad he couldn't see. My emotions were mixed all of a sudden, as I was unprepared to be reunited with Legolas by surprise.

"You're very quiet," he said. We were traveling at the back of the line, where Legolas said he normally traveled with the group. I had fallen back a bit, to give us a slight separation from the rest.

"How should I be?" I said. "I haven't seen you for so long that I almost forget what you look like. Not a word from you in months after your disappearance, and now here you are, appearing like an apparition out of the thin air and keeping strange company."

He walked along in silence for a few step, and turned his blinded face towards me. "Really? You forgot what I looked like? I thought I made a better impression upon you than that."

I could easily fall back into playful banter with him, but I wouldn't allow it. "You hurt me, Legolas. You promised that we would meet in battle, and you never came. But that's not the worst of it. You never told me where you were or why you didn't come."

"I couldn't tell you. I couldn't tell anyone. Not even my own father knew. He still doesn't know. Does it mean nothing that, of all my friends and family, you are the first to know where I am?"

"I see you here, walking by my side, but I still don't know what happened. Will you explain it to me now?" I asked with sincerity.

"I can't, I'm afraid, at least not until we speak with Lady Galadriel. But I'll tell you this much. It was completely my choice, and I did it, not for me, but for every elf in Middle-earth. I chose to represent all of elvendom, to swear an oath to those who have sacrificed so much for the sake of their own kind. I did it so that one day you and I might have a real future, and you have been my encouragement throughout this whole ordeal."

He made it difficult to stay mad at him … that was for sure. I turned my attention on him as we walked along the path towards the city. "A great difficulty you must have gone through, too. You look terrible. What happened to your head?"

He reached up and touched lightly, the bump on his forehead. "Oh that. Happened in the mines in Moria. We were surrounded by goblins, and barely made it out with our lives." He paused before he continued, and his voice dropped to just above a whisper. "One of us did not make it."

"Who?" I asked gently.

"Mithrandir."

"The grey wizard was with you?" I asked with astonishment.

Legolas nodded. "He was our guide. He was the only one who knew what our mission entailed. Gandalf spoke a little of our path with Aragorn. That's why we came to Lothlórien. Gandalf meant for us to come here. Now, we are hoping that Lady Galadriel will know why, and that perhaps this is where we were meant to end up."

"But what are you doing in the first place? Why are you together, and for what reason?" I couldn't make sense of any of it.

"I promise I will tell you, but I can't yet. We have to meet with Galadriel first. There are things she must be informed of, and hopefully, she will take this burden from us, and we will be free to go our separate ways."

"And if this is the end of your journey?" I wondered.

He nudged me with his shoulder and our hands touched. His pinky wrapped with mine, our only way to show true affection for each other without making a scene. "I will expect a guided tour of Lothlórien, especially of your home, particularly your bedroom."

"But what about Mirkwood?" I asked, refraining to notice his suggestive remarks.

"I will send word to my father, but first, I want to spend some time with you," he admitted.

"I'm not sure how much time we will have together. This is Lothlórien, after all," I warned, and released his finger just at the Gondorian turned around to check on us.

"You'll figure something out, Rúmil. I know you have your ways."

* * *

><p>We finally reached the city, and began our long climb to the meeting hall of the Lord and Lady. Now that we were here, Legolas and Gimli were relieved of their blindfolds. Legolas' eyes moved directly above him, to the thousands of lanterns that lit the trees. It gave the city a bluish glow, a very beautiful sight to behold.<p>

"It looks like the stars," Legolas commented, mouth hanging agape as he observed the area. "Simply beautiful."

I smiled at his level of awe. This was my home, and I was very proud of it, but sometimes it took a visitor's first impression to remind me of just how magnificent Lothlórien was.

"It's just as I remembered," Aragorn said, coming up beside Legolas as we climbed the stairs that wrapped around the extremely wide bole of the mallorn tree.

"How is it that you are associated with the elves?" I asked out of curiosity.

"My father died when I was only two, and, being of Númenórean decent, I was brought to Rivendell and fostered by Lord Elrond."

"And you have been to Lothlórien, you mentioned?" I interrogated.

"A while ago, yes," Aragorn answered.

Legolas smiled deviously. "Lord Elrond's daughter, Arwen, is his betrothed."

"Ah, now I see," I smiled, matching Legolas'.

"I wish Elrond was as accepting, but that is a whole other subject I wish not to discuss," Aragorn said quietly.

So, this man was in love with Galadriel's granddaughter. No wonder he didn't want to speak of it. Marriages between Men and Elves were forbidden for the most part, although there were a few acceptations throughout history. Now, my only hope was that Galadriel would not toss him out of her court. If Elrond was not keen on this betrothal, I wasn't sure if she was either. All I wanted was for these people to speak with her, relay their message, and hopefully conclude their task so that Legolas and I could move forward.

Once we were at our destination, Haldir halted us. Everyone in the traveling company would enter the meeting chamber along with Haldir. Orophin and I were told to wait outside, as this was an important and intimate matter. Orophin wasn't exactly happy with this outcome, but I knew Legolas would tell me later.

We waited for what seemed like a very long time before the doors of the meeting chamber opened. The company spilled out, looking worn and exhausted. Legolas stayed with Aragorn, talking in hushed tones. The Hobbits huddled together. Gimli, the dwarf joined Legolas and Aragorn, but the Gondorian man was behaving quite distantly. There was something about him that made me skeptical about his intentions. I had to trust that the rest of them knew him well enough to know this was just his personality, but as a soldier and a Captain of the realm, it was my duty to question anyone that I found suspicious. In other words, I kept a keen eye on that one.

Haldir approached Orophin and I, and gave a sigh of relief. "Well, Lady Galadriel recommends that they stay for as long as they need. They have been through some very challenging trials during their journey. They should recuperate and be allowed to mourn the loss of the wizard. Galadriel was quite overwhelmed by this news also. She was very close to Gandalf."

"Will they be within the city?" Orophin asked.

"They were offered rooms in the guest quarters, but refused. I don't think some of them are comfortable here, and they prefer to make a camp outside of the gates, yet within the borders," Haldir informed. I didn't understand this reasoning. If they needed time to recover, why not stay in the city where they could sleep in beds and eat hot meals?

I observed the Gondorian man, the one I heard referred to as Boromir. He looked frazzled and nervous. I didn't care for him much, but maybe this was just his way of grieving. He went to Aragorn and pulled him away from Legolas and Gimli to speak in private. Gimli went to the Hobbits, but Legolas came to me, and I led him away from the others.

"What's this about making camp outside of the city?" I asked him.

"The Hobbits do not like the idea of sleeping so far off the ground. Neither does Gimli. So they've decided to make a camp elsewhere." Legolas looked very tired. I didn't think he was too keen on sleeping on roots and stones again, but he seemed very attached to his new companions. He had changed since I'd seen him last. Although he still had his wit about him, he seemed more on edge, and it worried me a bit.

"Stay with me," I suggested softly.

"I … I don't know if I should. Like you mentioned before, this is Lothlórien." He looked around at his company. "And it might not be fair to some of them if I–"

"Please," I begged.

He looked me in the eyes, and I found my sanctuary within them, only now I thought I was _his_ place of peace. The tables had turned. "Are you sure?"

"I don't care anymore. I just … need you. Let me tend to your wounds. You need a good night's rest. I can see how worn you are, and you can tell me about your journey so far."

He searched my face, finding nothing but my sincerity, and nodded. "Alright, but I'll come later. Let me have some time with my friends first, and once they are settled, I'll come to you."

"I'll meet you at the gate," I said. Legolas didn't know his way around Caras Galadhon, nor did he know where my home was.

I felt an energy transpire between us, and wanted nothing more than to hold him, to comfort him and tell him all would be well. He was here now. Perhaps this journey was finally over.

"I wish I could kiss you right now," he said very softly.

"Soon," I promised with a hungry gaze, and he sucked in his bottom lip.

"Legolas," Aragorn called.

Legolas nodded to me, and gave me a wink. Then he joined Aragorn for more private discussions.

I came back later, in what I thought was enough time for Legolas to get his affairs in order, and waited at the gate. When the guards asked me what I was doing there, I told them that Legolas had chosen to make his accommodations within the city, and that I was to escort him to his room. One of the guards offered to do this for me, but of course I refused. As I was finishing up speaking with him, someone called my name. I turned to find Túron approaching.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, surprised to see him.

"Word spreads fast. I heard about the visitors, and thought I would see if there was anything I could do to help. They say four of them are Hobbits," Túron said.

"Yes, and two Men and a dwarf there are too."

"I've been to Hobbiton quite a few times, and wondered if I might know them. They are very far from home, and, as I've come to know Hobbits, they might be rather uncomfortable here."

I'd known that Túron had been to the Shire, but I hadn't known he was an expert in Hobbit behavior. "You're right. They did not feel secure staying within the city because of the height of the guest quarters, so they are staying down here."

Túron smiled at that. "Hobbits are small and better acquainted with being close to the ground. They make their homes beneath hills and knolls."

"I never realized you knew so much about them." I looked off in the distance, and could see Legolas coming up the path. "I'm sure they would like to speak with someone who knows as much about their home as they do, and you will be a great comfort to them, but perhaps it would be better if you waited until tomorrow. They are all quite exhausted from their travels."

"Of course," Túron agreed, and his attention flicked to the path outside the gates. "Someone approaches."

All I wanted was to spend some time alone with Legolas, especially since we hadn't seen each other in months. The last thing I wanted was for my former lover to meet my current one. What made it worse was that Legolas knew who Túron was to me, although he'd never met him. Túron knew I had someone new in my life, but I'd never given him a name. I had to hope that Legolas wouldn't do or say anything inappropriate.

"Good evening, Captain," Legolas greeted me. "Thank you for meeting me here."

"Of course," I smiled.

Legolas addressed Túron, being very careful how he spoke. "Captain Rúmil has been so kind as to give me a tour of the city."

"You've never been to Lothlórien before?" Túron questioned.

"Actually, no, but what I've seen of it so far is remarkably breathtaking." His eyes settled upon me, smolderingly. "No description compares to seeing it with one's own eyes."

I realized I hadn't properly introduced them, and though I wished I didn't have to, I had no choice. "This is Legolas, one of the members of the visiting company. He is also the Prin–"

"Just Legolas will do," he interrupted me. That was odd, I thought, but I took the strong hint and said nothing more about titles.

"Legolas has chosen not to camp with the others, and join his fellow elves within the city," I continued. Maybe if I kept the attention on Legolas, I wouldn't have to offer the name of –

"I am Túron, by the way," he said, giving me a reprimanding glare for not making proper introductions. "Welcome to Lothlórien."

Legolas smiled at Túron, but I could see the shock and dismay in his eyes. He knew the name. He knew exactly who this elf was, and when he finally looked at me, I saw his displeasure. "Túron, you say? Interesting name. Tell me, have you always lived in Lothlórien?" Damn it, he was fishing for information and confirmation.

"I was born in Rivendell, but I travel quite a bit now," Túron answered. "Though, I have made Lothlórien my residence in the past."

"Interesting," Legolas said, drawing the word out. "And you live here now?"

"For the past few months, yes, and I am very glad to be back." As Túron said this, he smiled at me sheepishly.

"And I can see why." Legolas brought his attention back to me, and I wished that I could have shriveled and disappeared. Time to get out of this mess.

"Well, Legolas and I really should be going," I said to break up this little meeting.

"Oh, yes, by all means. It was very nice to meet you," Túron said sincerely.

"Perhaps we shall see each other again," Legolas offered. "Dinner maybe?"

Túron started to answer, but I intervened before this went any further. "I'm sure you need your rest first. You've traveled far." Then I turned to Túron. "Don't want to impose."

"No, definitely not," Túron said with a daunt look.

"Well then, Rúmil seems to have my better interest at heart, but soon I would enjoy a bit of conversation."

Túron seemed to lighten at the prospect. Ai, if only he knew who this was. But then, he would find out soon enough, and I highly doubted, once that happened, he would want to spend any time with Legolas. What a mess this was going to be.


End file.
